Kid Kthulhu: Chapter One: The Awakening
by Nitebreaker
Summary: Calvin Michaels thinks he's an ordinary teenager with ordinary teenager problems. Little does he suspect he is anything but ordinary. But he'd better learn, as the fate of the world may rest upon his shoulders. A fanfic based on Lovecraft's stories, and Thomas Perkins' "Kid Kthulhu" retro comic covers. Dedicated, with much admiration, to them both.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I am indebted for the inspiration provided by Thomas Perkins' Deviantart retro comic book covers for "Kid Kthulhu." I really wish he or somebody allied with him would produce such a comic; I'd buy it in a heartbeat. But until then, I do the best I can with what I've got. Thank you, Tnperkins! Everybody who reads this, head on over there and look him up! It's awesome!_

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening

Chapter 1: Shadows of the Past

Calvin Michaels felt _horrible._

He'd been having trouble sleeping lately, and had taken to staying up late, watching whatever was on TV in the wee hours of the morning. In and around Arkham, Massachusetts, that wasn't much. Mostly infomercials, even if you did have cable. And he was getting to the point where he felt he'd barf if he saw just _one more_ 'mercial for a "male enhancement formula."

But the lack of sleep was telling on him. Typically, he'd stay up until he felt sleepy, trying not to wake his mom; however, he had learned long ago that sleep was a fickle mistress when he was actually trying to court her, stealing over him only at more inconvenient times. Like now.

Monday morning, and he was late for class. Again. The bell had already rung, and he stole his way into the boys' restroom at Arkham High, sighing. He'd catch it yet again from his teachers, but he honestly didn't see what else he could do.

He went over to one of the sinks there, turning on the water, without even bothering to set down his backpack. He held out his hand, and, as he had done ever since he could remember, willed the water stream into his palm. The flow of water obligingly bent at a forty-five degree angle, filling his edge-down palm with a liquid spheroid which he splashed liberally over his face. As usual, he kept the water from running down his clothes and back, unconsciously willing it back into the palm of his hand before it reached his collar. Maybe this would wake him up.

He did his best to sneak into class, but, since everybody was already seated and paying attention to the teacher, Mrs. Kellam, that, of course, was impossible. He could feel the eyes on him as he took his seat behind Crystal "Kris" Simone, his best friend and editor of the school newspaper, the _Arkham Light_.

"Ah, Mr. Michaels. So _good_ of you to _finally_ join us," said "Kill 'em Kellam," as she was privately referred to. "I don't suppose you'd happen to have a reason for the lateness of the hour? A _good _reason, I mean? You _do_ know class begins at eight, correct?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am. I, I just overslept, is all."

She glanced over her pointed eyeglasses, which he suspected she had to order online. Surely nobody around Arkham actually sold such abominations. "Perhaps you need to invest in an alarm clock. This is what? Your third time being tardy? Do we need to take this up with Principal Stevens?"

"Ah, no, ma'am, I'll, I'll do that, get an alarm clock, I mean. And, and I'm sorry for being late."

Again that over-the-top glance. "See that you do. Your coming in late is beginning to disrupt the class. And I will _not_ have that. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." _You bitch, you think I'm coming in late, just so as to inconvenience you?_ But of course, he'd learned that sometimes, that was _exactly_ the way some adults thought.

"Very well. But see that it doesn't happen again. Ever. Now. To continue…"

After school: Kris followed him out into the hallway. As was their custom on non-weekends, they convened outside before heading home. "Cal, what's happening with you lately? You've never been the sort to be late."

"I know." He sighed, walking along with her. The two of them made quite a pair: the tall, somewhat reclusive boy with a light brown thatch of curly hair that refused to stay in one place for more than a few moments, and the energetic dark haired, dark-eyed outgoing girl. Quite a few had mistaken them for a romantic couple, but they were just friends, and had been ever since fifth grade, when Kris, the tomboy, had been attracted to the loner, the kid who, for whatever reasons, preferred to keep to himself. At first, he was fun to beat up on, but then she discovered a curious thing: it was only fun if SHE was the one doing the beating up. He could, and frequently did, take care of himself in a fight, but she began to notice, and take exception, to _anyone else_ beating him up.

And something else they both noticed, but, by one of those weird unspoken agreements, never talked about: he never fought back against her. Anyone else would get hell on wheels, but not her. The ensuing years led to a burgeoning friendship that had become a solid, almost brother-sister sort of affection. They looked out for each other. "I keep having these dreams, Kris. And they're always the same: I'm underwater, swimming somewhere. Not underwater like swimming underwater. Like WAY underwater, like I'm a fish or something. And, I keep hearing these voices chanting in the background. Nonsensical words, but…in the dream, they make sense."

"What do they say?"

He shook his head. "I can never remember when I wake up. But…I wake up _scared,_ Kris, not wanting to go back to sleep because…because the dreams come again. And, like I said, it's always the _same_ dream. Over and over." He paused, trying to find the right words. "And the really weird part is, while I'm in the dream, it's not scary. It's only when I wake up that I get scared."

They reached a bench at the boundary of the school's property. There was no-one else there, which suited them both perfectly. "Sooo…it's always the same dream?" Kris had recently read a book on dream psychology. She pulled out her Galaxy tablet, and scrolled through the reading app. "Says here dreams of being underwater usually mean something secret, or secrets deeply buried, that you sense in waking life. Anything in particular worrying you? Anything of a secretive nature?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "Not that I can think of. But I guess if I could, I probably wouldn't need the dreams to show that."

She nodded, producing an apple, dividing it in half with a highly illegal pen-knife. Like so many schools in latter days, Arkham High had instituted a zero tolerance policy when it came to "contraband" objects. (And that was when Kris had discovered she had a zero tolerance policy for zero tolerance policies…) She offered him one half, which he accepted in a distracted manner. "Of course, you understand, all this is theoretical. I mean, they could just be a recurring dream or nightmare, with no real significance." _Crunch_ went the apple in her teeth. "How's your mom?"

"Okay, I guess. Still worried about the bills." Cal's widowed mother had recently had a bad workplace experience. Her boss had taken to coming on to her to the point where she felt it necessary to seek legal aid. But the problem with that was, movies and TV notwithstanding, the harsh reality was that she was currently unemployed, and, due to the sensitive nature of the lawsuit, other employers were reluctant to hire her, seeing her as a potential troublemaker. Of course, they never actually came out and said so, but somehow the good jobs—hell, the jobs, _period-_just always went to someone else. It wasn't the way things were supposed to be, but reality didn't seem to care. "I'm gonna try an' get a summer job. Anything to help out."

"Whataburger's hiring. But you'd probably pull graveyard. At least at first."

"Yeah, well. It's not like I'd be missing a lot of sleep anyway."

Kris's expression softened, looking at him. "Look, Cal. Maybe…I'm just talking here, but…maybe if you could get your sleep cycle under control, maybe…things would look better to you. More easily controlled." She shrugged, her slim shoulders lifting underneath her "Miskatonic U." shirt.

"You think I'd be making a bad decision?"

"I think you _could._ It's so much easier to make bad decisions when you're stressed: there's so many bad decisions to make. And you're already stressed out enough…if you can't handle school now, taking a late-night job isn't gonna make things any better. I wish I had something to offer you…" Kris was the editor of the school's newspaper, but that, of course, was hardly a paying proposition.

"It's okay, Kris." He laughed suddenly. "Y'know, back when I was little, I used to fantasize about having magic powers or something. Just wave my hand and make stuff happen. But, even if it was a real thing, I don't think magic works that way. I mean, the energy to do stuff has to come from somewhere. Wouldn't you think?"

"_I_ think we'd both best be getting home. We've both got homework," she grimaced…homework, the bane of students' free time everywhere…" And you…" She didn't finish. Because of his frequent tardiness, Cal had been given a double load.

_He_ grimaced in return. "Yeah, I guess so…" He made to get up, then suddenly looked up, surprise on his face. "What was that?" Looking around him, in the clear, nearly cloudless air overhead.

"What was what?" She hadn't sensed anything.

"I thought…for a minute there…I thought something…swooped by."

"A bird."

"No…not a bird. Something…something else. Not a bird."

"A bat?"

"No, no… not like…not like an animal or anything. Just…oh, I don't know. I think this lack of sleep is messing with my mind."

Once home, he shrugged off his backpack, settling it on the floor. His mom wasn't home yet, still out pounding the pavement, trying to find a job, any job. Automatically, he checked the mail that had been deposited through the mail-slot.

Hm. One letter to "Calvin Michaels," no return address. It didn't look like an ad or a bill…he tore it open and read the message, written in an elegant hand-written script: _"If you would know the truth about yourself, contact me. But be warned: the truth can be painful."_ There was a local telephone number. It was signed "Brother Elder."

_Great,_ he thought. Either a psychic hotline, or some sort of weird solicitation. Sounded like one of those door-to-door types. He threw it into the garbage, along with a number of flyers and leaflets. _And people wonder where the rainforest is disappearing to._ Of course, it could be worse: they could be pop-up ads online. Even as he thought that, he made a face. That'd be next, of course. You couldn't keep yourself invisible online forever, not unless you changed your whole profile, email e-ddress, etc., every few months. And that was usually more hassle that it was worth. That was why they made so many spam filters.

He went into his room, depositing his backpack by his desk. He'd have to get on that homework. He'd never decided if teachers handed you out extra homework as a punitive gesture or just because they sincerely wanted you to catch up. Then he shrugged. Probably a bit of both.

He'd picked up the newspaper from the downstairs hallway. Now he opened it, scanning the classifieds. Online was of course another option, but maybe he could find something local in the paper.

Nothing. Well, he supposed he'd best hit the pavement. But not right now; right now, he was exhausted, both from the day and the previous night's lack of sleep. Just a quick nap before he began his homework….he was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow….

…

"_Cthulhu fhtagn!" Again the jumble of nonsense sounds, yet strangely he understood them, and welcomed them. It was right that dread Cthulhu, the Undying, lay dreaming, never dead yet never truly alive, until the stars themselves were right._

_Then: escape. And triumph._

"_Yog-Sothoth…" Somehow, the unfamiliar name/word filled him with a kind of nameless dread, a certainty that danger was imminent, and that he had to get away, or prepare. But from what? Who or what was a Yog-Sothoth?_

_Who or what had brushed against him at school today?_

_These dreams were different. In his previous dreams, he'd been underwater, far, far underwater, down where there was no light at all, yet he could see with a sense that was not sight as he understood it. But now…now he wasn't alone. Once again, he saw the titan columns of Great Cthulhu's underwater temple, draped with seaweed and encrusted with barnacles, but this time tended, always tended by…beings. Beings similar to himself, but also very different. _

_They were not mermaids, not as men supposed them to be, not half-human and half-fish. Rather, they were bipeds perfectly adapted to living underwater, their long, powerful limbs capable of sending them rocketing through the water with the speed and agility of the fish they hunted. Their bodies were biped and symmetrical, two legs, two arms, all perfectly normal…_

_But their faces…._

_He found himself fascinated by those faces. They both were and were not human. Some approached human more than others, but many were wildly different, making him want to look away, not wanting to see those parodies of human features…the lidless eyes that never shut, the neck creases that marked the gills, the wide, frog-like mouth…mouths full of razor-sharp teeth, like a shark. Everything about them practically screamed, "predator!"_

_And others…were equally disturbing by their very human-likeness…high foreheads, straight noses, symmetrical outlines, cheekbones, gill slits practically invisible…and some of these were the most disturbing, just because they were so…human…_

…_Some…even beautiful…_

_One in particular._

_She swam right up to him, completely unafraid, looking him in the eyes. Her own eyes were very large and very dark, as was the hair that cascaded down her back, waving gently in the currents, back and forth, like smoke in the water. Her skin was not scaly, but a light green color that was mostly hidden beneath a simple blouse and short skirt combination. It almost looked like a high school uniform, oddly enough. She looked at him intently, as though trying to see him, somehow, or see __into__ him in some way. The others stopped what they were doing and watched._

_She halted a few feet away from him, her hands and feet (which sported delicate webs between the digits, he noted, with absolutely no surprise or revulsion whatsoever; of course she had webbed hands and feet. Why should she __not__?) moving just enough to keep her in position. She pointed to herself, touching her left index finger to her breast. "P'thya," she said, and then repeated the process. "P'thya." Pronouncing it with an almost inaudible sound masking more than expressing the 'p', so that it came out more like "Thya." That was obviously her name._

_Then she pointed to him, a quizzical expression on her delicate features. She pointed to him, and waited for a reply._

_What __was__ his name? He was having a hard time remembering. Then, "Kal." He pointed to himself and said it again: "Kal."_

"_Kal," said the underwater girl, turning the unfamiliar sound over in her mouth, almost as though trying to taste it. Then she smiled, a perfectly human smile, a beautiful smile, even if her canines were ever so slightly longer than was standard on a human. "Kal. Kal."_

_Somehow, the thought intruded into his dreaming psyche: what did __he__ look like, to them? Come to think of it, what did he look like, period?_

_Why did that question fill him with a nameless dread? Why should it?_

He awoke with a start, hearing the door downstairs open and close. "Honey, I'm home." His mom had made it back. He suppressed a small grimace, even though he was upstairs and behind a closed door; he could hear it in her voice. She hadn't found anything. Not yet.

Calvin's mom was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, with wavy dark brown hair which she kept tightly bound. Let loose, it tended to spill over down her back, even longer than Kris's, but, for the job interview, she always kept it in a bun. A few of her friends had advised her that she might have better luck at finding a job if she _did_ let it hang down, but Lisa Michaels had already had more than she wanted of _that_ kind of attention, particularly from employers, or potential employers. She wanted to be considered for her qualifications, but, it was appearing, that was another thing the movies and TV shows almost invariably got wrong: the jobs more often than not went to those candidates who simply looked better. Oh, sometimes, that wasn't true, and such was her hope. But at the age of thirty six, she was beginning to wonder if such an opportunity would come _her_ way. Thirty-six wasn't old by anyone's standards, but could she compete with twenty-year olds just out of college?

And maybe, just maybe….on her last job….maybe there had been another way to handle it…

Calvin could practically see these thoughts cross his mother's mind when he watched her. Children are the best mind-readers any parent ever encounters. And it hurt him to know that she was thinking what she was thinking, and, moreover, that she was actually feeling _guilty_ for standing up for herself.

He came up to her, kissing her on the cheek. "Hey, mom. Have any luck?" Even though he already knew the answer.

"Well, not yet. I've still got some leads to follow, though, but it was getting too late in the day. How was school?" Ouch.

"Well….I, er, kinda got there late. Again."

"Oh, no!"

"Yeah. I think Ms. Kellam thinks I'm doing it deliberately _just to annoy her._" He followed her into the small house's kitchen. The pot roast she'd put on that morning was simmering in the slow cooker, the smell making his mouth water. "Why don't you go rest, and I'll get dinner ready?"

"Tell you what," she smiled back at him, "we'll make it a joint effort."

After dinner, they both settled in to watch _American Idol._ Cal entertained a brief fantasy of going on the show and winning enough money to help his mother out and over this rough time in her life. But he knew he couldn't sing, and the only time he'd ever tried to dance, at Kris's nonstop insistence (she was a force to be reckoned with, once she got an idea in her head), had resulted in such a tangle of arms and legs they both wondered briefly if they'd even be able to extricate themselves from each other. Cal had entertained a brief, horrific mind-picture of the two of them having to go to school still intertwined, having to somehow sit down in one desk, one set of hands taking down notes, the other set operating the mini-recorder he occasionally used to record a particularly hard class. While Cal had no problems with being with his best friend, there were certain limitations, after all. Like, what about when one or both of them had to go to the rest room?

Bedtime: Cal sighed and closed his books. He'd managed to finish the double load of homework, and felt fairly good about it for tomorrow. Now if he could just get some sleep, sleep without those damned dreams….tomorrow night he'd start his job search….Kris had said Whataburger was hiring, maybe that was a good place to start…

Tuesday morning: Cal slept dreamlessly on the bench outside of school. Close by a sinister presence stalked nearer, ever nearer….and raised the object in its left hand, the shadow of it falling over his slumbering head…. _Kapaiow_!—went the paper bag in Kris's grip.

He didn't so much as twitch. "Hey, Kris." Still with his eyes closed.

She stood with her fists on her hips. "Tell the truth. You've been here for at least an hour, right?"

"Uh…what time is it?"

"Make that two. Cal," she sat down beside him, concern etching her heart-shaped face (and why did her face remind him of someone? He couldn't remember…), "look. This is getting out of hand. You've just spent a good portion of the night here, on a bench, because you were afraid you'd be late again. You can't go on like that. Maybe…maybe you should, like, talk to a doctor or something. Or…" She didn't finish the sentence, but he knew what she was thinking: _or maybe a psychiatrist._

"I, I don't know, Kris. I don't know what I should do. Why should these damned _dreams_ be starting up _now?_ I mean, I haven't suffered any kind of trauma, no head injuries, nothing's happened to me…"

"Yet." She sat down beside him on the bench. "But, look, Cal: you're a teenager, and your mom is in hard financial straits right now. That alone is enough to cause you to stress out. I really think things'll improve once she gets something goin' by way of a job. For that matter, it might help you, too, if you did get a part-time job. As long as you could handle it, of course. You'd be _doing_ something, rather than just waiting for things to crash in on you. You'd just have to juggle your time, is all. School, homework, family time, work time, sleep. And _let_ the goddam dreams come. I mean, they're just dreams, aren't they? And you said yourself they weren't even very scary, while you're dreaming, at least."

"Shoggoths."

"What?"

"Shoggoths."

"What's a 'shoggoths'?"

"Uhhh….I have…absolutely no idea. The, the word just came to me. I don't know what it means."

She eyed him even more critically. Decision time: "C'mon, Cal. Up an' at 'em." And she levered him up, draping his arm over her shoulder, his lanky frame leaning on her.

"Where're we going?"

"Infirmary. You are ninety percent asleep at the wheel. Today you call in sick. And _then_ you talk to the school counselor. Not later. Not when you get around to it. _Now._"

"But I really don't-*"

"Don't make me drag you there by the scruff of the neck like a cavewoman, Cal. That'd play hell with your image. Now come on."

….

"Well, I can't find anything _physically_ wrong with him," said the nurse, "aside from his being exhausted. You're sure he hasn't been doing any…you know…recreational stuff?" _Read: drugs._

Kris did a slow internal boil. Adults always seemed to think that every time a kid showed up with a problem, it was drugs. "He's _never_ done drugs. He's never even smoked pot." _Which is more than some of his teachers here can say._ "Besides, I'm sure you tested him for that, didn't you?" _That is, if you were even doing your job._

"Yes." Distractedly, in that way that told Kris they probably hadn't. After all, drug tests costs; suspicion and blame, however, were free of charge.

"So what have you found out?"

The nurse shrugged, a gesture Kris found just a little annoying. She'd just have to get him to a regular doctor; these do-nothings weren't worth the powder it would take to blow 'em away. "Not much. He _is_ suffering from exhaustion. You say this has been going on for some time now?"

"Yeah. He's been oversleeping and coming in late because of that."

"And nothing's happened recently that could account for this?"

Kris shrugged one shoulder beneath her sweatshirt. "None that he knows of. So. How is he?"

"Exhausted, like I said." The nurse's expression softened a bit. "I'll have a word with his teachers. If he'll submit to a hair sample, I can safely eliminate any drug-related problems, they'll be more inclined to work with us here. Has he been to see a regular doctor? What kind of insurance does he have?"

….

"Well, your school nurse was right, Mr. Michaels. There's nothing _physically_ wrong with you. At least, nothing we can detect. You say these dreams just started, all of sudden?" Dr. Steyr half-sat on the exam table in the room where he was talking to Michael.

"Yes, sir. I don't remember the exact date they started, but I should, because it was pretty sudden."

"Anything going on in your life at the time?"

He shook his head. "Nothing except the usual. Mom's still trying to find work, but, you know, except for that, nothing anybody else wouldn't have goin'."

"Well, tell you what I'm gonna do." Dr. Steyr got out his prescription pad. "This is just temporary, but I'm giving you a prescription for a very low dose of Valium. Take it _only_ as you need it. Maybe if you can break this, this dream-cycle, you can start getting some real rest. Of course, you know not to drive after taking, right? Okay…"

…..

The job at Whataburger proved to be almost embarrassingly easy to get, and, sure enough, as Kris had said, they allotted him the ten o'clock to three AM shift. He guessed he was lucky to get that; but if he could just get in a few hours of good sleep before school, he figured it would be okay.

Dreams….

_In his dreams, he was always underwater, but that was his natural element; nothing to be feared there. He found himself "standing" before the mighty columns of the sunken tomb of Great Cthulhu himself, joining the others in their observance of the needed rituals. But what was really weird was, they seemed to look to him for leadership. How could that be?_

_He stood before the teeming crowd. How many were there? Thousands? Millions? He didn't know. And, really, he didn't care. He raised his arms. "Cthulhu fhtagn!"_

_The crowd responded. "Cthulhu fhtagn! Ia! Ia! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."_

_And in the dream, the words made perfect sense: "In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." _

_And always, always, there was the beautiful underwater girl there, by his side, looking up at him with shining eyes._

…..

The next few days saw some improvement. Cal's job did pay some, and he was able to help his mother out. He'd usually finish up, and get a few hours sleep before he had to go to school. Overall, it wasn't bad. Oh, the money could've been better, but he guessed even Bill Gates felt that way.

The point was: he was making a difference. At first, his mother had been hesitant about his job, but grew more confident as he proved able to handle the increased workload. And the dreams…didn't seem to be bothering him as much. He still had them, but for some reason, they didn't seem like the nightmares he'd come to expect.

Kris was ecstatic. "Good _goin',_ Cal! Maybe this is just the thing. Take some of the strain off you and your mom." Kris's own mother was "not in the picture," as she'd put it, and her parents were divorced. She herself lived in an efficiency apartment not all that far from school, that her father, currently stationed overseas, had helped her get. The only family she had locally was her grandparents, out around Providence. So, in a sense, she'd "adopted" Cal's mother as her own. And the feeling seemed to be mutual. That pleased Cal no end; the two most important women in his life….

They were eating lunch in the school's cafeteria. The "mystery meat" was actually nearly edible. For a change. "We really should celebrate. How about I bring over one of my casseroles? In fact, if it's okay with your mom, I'll just fix the entire dinner that night. Does that sound okay? You pick the time."

"It sounds great, Kris, but we're not out of the woods yet. Mom's savings are on the verge of drying up, and my little check sure as heck won't cover the bills. So…I don't wanna be premature here."

"Oh, bosh. I _know_ you've got a long ways to go, and that things aren't perfect yet, but the point is, you've taken action. You're not a helpless victim anymore. _That's_ what we'd be celebrating."

"I'll check with mom, see what a good day would be. Maybe we could make it a movie night, too. I-* Oh, crap, there goes the bell. Well, see ya!"

…

Cal's job went smoothly. He'd pulled the Monday through Thursday shift, and it seemed that most customers that came in during the hours he worked were either understanding souls or high on something. Cal preferred to believe the former; there was a certain brotherhood—and sisterhood—among those who, for whatever reason, found themselves up during the wee hours of the morning. Weekends, he understood, got a little wilder.

Because of the Valium, he'd deliberately left his car home. The last thing he needed was to get picked up for a DUI. It wasn't that far to his house, anyway; just over the bridge over the river, and a few blocks down. And it saved on gas.

But the money still wasn't enough to help out with the bills as much as he'd hoped. His mother kept at it, trying to find some job, any job, but without a whole lot of success.

Then one day he came in from school, picked up the mail, and noticed yet another letter to him with no return address. _Hmph._ Another one of those solicitation things, no doubt. He started to just chuck it when he noticed it felt just a little thicker than he'd normally think a folded piece of paper should feel.

Tearing it open revealed yet another blank piece of paper with the elegant script: _If you would know the truth about yourself, contact me at this number. Brother Elder. _ He hadn't memorized the number from last time, but it was still a local area code. But what really caught his attention was the _other_ piece of paper in the envelope.

It was a check, made out to him, drawn on a national bank, for eight thousand dollars.

For the briefest of moments, he stared, stunned, at the check. Then his rational mind reasserted itself. Of course, this was one of those money-laundering scams. You heard about them all the time. The check was counterfeit, meant to lure him into the web of lies the scammers had no doubt prepared for those unsophisticated souls who still believed in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

He started to tear it up, but paused. Eight thousand dollars. That was a lot of money…if it was legit…could he, should he dare take the chance that it might not be legit?

How would he find out? Well, he reasoned, that part wasn't difficult.

…..

"Hey, Cal," David Newsome, accounts manager for Cal's bank, ushered him into his office. "Good to see you. How's your mom?"

"Oh, she's okay." Actually, he thought, she could be a whole lot better, but this wasn't the time and the place to be airing family business. "Look. I've…got a bit of a problem here, and I was wondering if you could help me out."

"Sure. I'll do whatever I can." Newsome took his seat, across his desk from Cal. "What'cha got?"

"This." He produced the check. "This arrived in the mail yesterday. No return address. The only other thing in the letter was a piece of paper saying if I wanted to know 'the truth' about myself, to call a certain number. I was wondering if you can tell me if it's legit or not."

Newsome stared hard at the check. It certainly _looked_ legit. "I can run it past our computers here, ring up Chase and see if they recognize this routing number…who is this 'Brother Elder,' anyway?"

Cal spread his hands. "I've no clue. I never heard of him before now. Well, I did get a letter from him earlier, saying the same thing, but with no check.

"But I just wonder if this is not some kinda scam. That's why I'm coming to you. I mean…if the check's legit…well. But if it's not, I sure don't need to get arrested for counterfeiting or forgery or something."

Newsome nodded. "I understand. Well, let me go see…hang on for a moment, okay?"

A few minutes later he was back, shaking his head. "Thank God for the internet."

Cal sagged. "So…it was fake?" He hadn't realized how much he'd been hoping…

"No, it appears to be totally legit. Good for the full face value. So…what do you want to do with it?"

Cal's mouth sagged open. Eight thousand dollars? Eight thousand dollars! And…and…it was his…

"Oh, of course, we have to hold it for three days, you know, standard procedure, for it to clear. But everything checks out. Do you wanna deposit this into your account?"

Cal's mind snapped back into his head. "Uh, no. Put it in my mom's account, can you?"

"Sure. Here. Just endorse it on the back."

He hurried home, bursting in the door. "Hey, Mom! You'll never guess what just happened!"

His mother was in the kitchen. Without batting an eye, she said, "Scarllett Johanssen just called you up and proposed."

He rolled his eyes. She was in _that_ mood again. "No, mom, even better!"

"Kate Upton?"

"No, I-*"

"Rachel Ray? She's a good cook."

"MoOom!"

"Well, who then? Don't keep a body in suspense like that."

"We just got a check for a whole bunch of money!"

She looked suspicious. "A _real_ check?" She picked up the coffee pot and started over to the other side of the small kitchen, where the coffee maker was. "From who?" He sat at the kitchen table, almost too excited for words.

"Somebody I never heard of, signs his name as 'Brother Elder.' I-*"

_Crash!_ Went the glass coffee pot on the floor, causing him to look around.

His mother had backed away and was leaning against the countertop, eyes and mouth wide, her hand over her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Her face was more pale than he'd ever seen it. "Mom? What's wrong?"

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2: Dreams

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 2: Dreams

….

_Once again, I'm indebted to the work of Thomas Perkins' "Kid Kthulhu" on Deviantart, without which this would never have come to pass. Check him out!_

…_._

Kris's phone rang. She glanced at it, curious to see who it could be. It was getting on a little late… Cal? "Hey, Cal, what's up?"

"_I'm, I'm not altogether sure, Kris. Uh, could you come over here? Like, right now?"_

…

"Okay, so I'm here, what's got you so upset?" She looked around. Cal was looking more than three quarters of the way freaked out; there was no sign of his mother.

"Kris, it was crazy. Look. Let me show you something." He handed her the folded piece of paper with the writing on it, and the receipt from the bank. "I'd gotten one of these before, but this time, it came with a check for eight thousand dollars!"

"A check? For eight grand? Had to be a scheme."

"That's what I thought. So I took it down to the bank, had Mr. Newsome run it past their computers. It was good, it was legit. So I had him deposit it in mom's account."

"Okay, good so far…puzzling but good. I mean, it's just exactly what you needed, wasn't it?"

"But then I come home and tell her. As soon as I mention this 'Brother Elder's' name, she freaks out on me! She's upstairs now, won't answer her door or anything!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "I, I don't know what else to do! I've tried to get her to talk to me, but she won't! She just stays in there, and I can hear her crying! Kris, _what did I do?_"

"Okay, Cal," she put her hand on his chest, reassuringly. "Calm down. Let's just look at this objectively. One, she obviously knows this Brother Elder person, and, obviously, it's not a fond memory either. Here. Let me go see if I can talk to her, okay? Woman to woman sort of thing. You stay down here…"

Upstairs: "Mrs. Michaels? It's me, Kris. Won't you tell us what's wrong? You're kinda scarin' us…will you at least tell us something?"

From behind the door, Kris could've sworn she heard Cal's mother say something that sounded like _no, no, I couldn't,_ or words to that effect. But then she heard the sound of a nose being blown, and the silence that usually means someone's trying to compose themselves.

Mrs. Michaels opened the door. That she'd been crying was self-evident, her makeup running down her face, eyes red and puffy. "Mrs. Michaels..." Kris put a hand on her shoulder, "What, what could be so terrible?"

Lisa Michaels tried to give her a brave smile, one mixed with a certain amount of fear. She didn't quite pull that first part off. "Just give me a moment, dear. I'll come downstairs and tell you both."

Downstairs: Mrs. Michaels sat in her accustomed chair, leaning forward, reading the scrap of paper that had come with the check. As she got to the end, her façade seemed to break, and both Cal and Kris were afraid she was going to break down again. "It's true," she whispered, obviously fighting for control. "I had hoped…after all these years…" Kris went over and sat on the arm of the chair, putting her arm around the weeping woman, just being there with her.

Mrs. Michaels straightened up. "In 1999, I was a newlywed. Dale and I were on our honeymoon, touring the countryside. We were off on some small country road, somewhere to the north, northeast of here at the time. It was raining, a hard rain.

"We never even saw the truck that hit us. It just came out of nowhere, at full sp-speed. I learned later on the driver had been up for five straight days, running mostly on meth and coffee. He never even saw us.

"Dale was killed instantly. But I didn't learn that until later. I have some dim memory of some people digging me out of the wreckage, carrying me off. Off to a town I later learned was called Innsmouth.

"I was told it was touch and go. I'd lost a lot of blood, had several major broken bones. They told me I was very lucky my back wasn't broken. But they tended to me, helped me recover and get my strength back, saw to it that I had enough painkillers in me so I wasn't in agony that whole time.

"And I remember Brother Elder, as he called himself. He was…sort of the leader there. I don't really remember anything about what we talked about—it was all a fog to me—nothing specific, I mean-but I remember them gradually reducing the dose of the painkillers, so I wouldn't get, you know, too dependent on them. I really got pretty good care, all things considered. But Cal," and here she looked at her son, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I—I never told you this because…" Her voice dropped. "W-when I had the accident…I'm pretty sure I wasn't pregnant.

"But when I left Innsmouth, I was. With you."

…

Later on, Kris would remember the stunned look on her friend's face. "Uh, Mrs. Michaels? Are—are you telling us you were….?" She couldn't bring herself to say the word "raped," not right there, in front of Cal.

"I don't know, Kris! That's what I mean. I was…I was in a fog the whole time…I can't say _for a certainty_ that I wasn't pregnant when I got there.

"But I'm pretty sure I wasn't." She blew her nose, crumpling and recrumpling her Kleenex all the while.

"Mom….this…are you saying this Brother Elder is my….my father?"

"Cal…please understand. I don't remember! All I remember about him was that we talked. I don't even remember what we talked about, but, but it seemed like he helped me, you know, get over Dale's death…"

_Seems like he helped himself more,_ thought Kris, feeling her blood beginning to boil. A glance over at Cal; still he sat there, as though in shock, face pale, mouth hanging open. "I, I don't know what happened. I mean, it's all a blur to me. I _could_, I guess, have…you know…."

"Doesn't matter. Mrs. Michaels, not only were you in shock over having just lost your husband, but you were pilled to the gills. No way you could've given legal consent in that shape! Did you ever press charges? Please tell me you pressed charges!"

Another nose blow. "No. I…didn't. As I said, I don't know _for a fact_ that I wasn't pregnant when I got there. But I really don't think I was."

Cal sat, thinking, for a long time. A lot of things were beginning to make sense now. The cryptic letters (_"If you would know the truth about yourself…truth can be painful…"_), the check, right out of the blue like that…

And the knowledge that his mother, _his mother_, might've been-* He felt his face getting red. He glanced around. "Where is that phone number…" A certain Brother Rapist was overdue for a piece of his mind…

"_No!_ Honey, promise me! Promise me you'll never have anything to do with them! You, you don't know what they're like!"

"I know enough." Still his eyes were hunting for that scrap with the phone number on it. He had that look in his eyes that Kris had seen only a very few times in her entire life: Cal was more than merely pissed; he was _pissed off to the thirty-third power_, and _some_body was gonna be in for some hand delivered Hell on Earth. Cal didn't get mad very often, but when he did….

The biggest bombs have the longest fuses.

"No!" His mother clung to his shirt. "Please! Cal, if you love me, promise me! Promise me you'll leave them alone!" She was on the verge of hysteria.

He noticed, and visibly calmed down some. "Okay, mom. Look, it'll be alright, okay? I, I won't do anything." _At least, not until I know more about what to do._ "So…so don't, don't do this to yourself, okay?"

"Mrs. Michaels, come on, come go with me, okay?" Kris took her gently by her other arm. "Come on, you need to get some rest." And she led her off after giving Cal a "wait for me" look.

Cal was sitting in the living room, on the couch, still quietly seething, when she came back. "I, I can't believe it, Kris. I mean…" He flopped his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

She came and sat beside him. "Well, this is…one helluva shock, I know." He didn't say anything, but just sat there, staring off into infinity. "So…what are you gonna do?"

"Do? I'm gonna contact the police first thing tomorrow, see what can be done to these guys." He got up and started pacing. "Sure it was sixteen years ago, but there's still genetic tests they can run. Especially these days. Maybe they can nail this bastard to the wall. String him up by his own balls." Cal didn't curse often; when he did, it was an indication of just how angry he really was.

She came to a decision. Getting up, she took him by the arm, pulling him towards the stairs. "C'mon, Cal."

"Come on? What do you mean?"

"I mean, come on. It's what? Nearly eleven thirty? I know tomorrow's a Saturday, but you still gotta get some rest. So come on." She was pulling him towards his room.

"Whu-what about you?"

"I'm staying over. I've got an overnight bag in the car, and one of your tees will do for me to sleep in. So come on, now. Or are you gonna make me throw you over my shoulder an' carry you upstairs?"

….

Later: he was lying in bed, clad in his sleep pants, trying to lose himself in television. At least the Syfy channel had something on, but if anyone had asked him, right then, what it was, he honestly couldn't have said. Something about snakes.

The words kept going over and over in his mind. He couldn't get over it. All that had happened….the letters, the check, this Brother Elder, his mother…how _could_ he get over it?

And he was the product of _rape?_ The notion made him feel…queasy, all over. Like he was tainted or something.

What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to feel?

There was a knock at his door. "Come in." He already knew who it had to be. That knock was like a signature.

Kris came in, barefoot, one of Cal's tee shirts draped over her. The shirt, sized for a six foot individual, came down almost to mid-thigh on her. She came over and sat on the bed by him, her hair already tied up in a ponytail, ready for bed. "How is she?" he asked.

Kris took her time answering. "She's….calmer, now. She regrets not having told you sooner, but…"

"…but after sixteen years…yeah, I get the picture."

She lay down beside him, on the edge of the bed, her dark hair fanning out over his pillow. He could smell her clean, soapy, just-showered scent. Kris had never bothered with perfumes, which she regarded as "girly things," and unworthy of the attention of a modern young woman. He was actually glad of that; the simple natural scent of her so near was...nice. Relaxing, in a way. A little unnerving, in another…but he didn't let himself dwell on that too much. "So…what will you do?" she asked.

"Tomorrow morning, I'm making a full report to the police. What else can I do? I mean, even after all this time…"

But she was shaking her head, back and forth on the pillow they were both sharing right then. "Cal…I don't mean to sound this way, but there may not be much you can do."

Now _he_ shook _his_ head. She could feel the pillow shift beneath the back of her head. "No, no, there's gotta be something. I mean, my mother was _raped,_ Kris!"

"I checked the statute of limitations on rape in this state, Cal. Sixteen years. That's probably why you got those letters, that check. It was already too late to do anything about it." She took a deep breath. What she was about to say wasn't gonna be what he wanted to hear. "And, a good defense attorney could so easily shred her side. This happened sixteen years ago. Why hasn't she come forward before now? It'll be her word against his that she was even under the influence, and I imagine a smooth-talking lawyer…and this 'Brother Elder' being something of a community leader, especially one who can fling wads of cash around like that…"

"So I'm supposed to do _nothing?_"

She shook her head again. "No, I didn't say that. But let's be calm and rational about this whole matter, as calm and as rational as we can be, that is. There must be a reason for his contacting you after all this time. I mean, why do anything? Why now? And keep in mind, that check came just in time to forestall a whole bunch of trouble. Why? Like I said, why bother? 'S gotta be a reason. It's a mystery to be puzzled out." She yawned. It had been a long day for her, too.

He was still too keyed up to relax, saying nothing, just lying there beside her, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, as rigid as a plank. It was odd how she could just about read his thoughts. Sometimes it was almost like their minds were linked, somehow, like a Vulcan mind-meld. "Now, don't go off doing something stupid, okay?"

"Who, me?"

"Yeah, you. Look, Cal," she half rolled towards him, propping her head up on her elbow, "You're perfectly within your rights to be mad as hell about this. All I'm saying is, let's just know what we're doing before we do it. That's all. Is that so much?"

He didn't say anything, just lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling. Okay. So it was gonna be like that, was it?

She yawned again, and, pulling the sheets up over her body, reached for him. "C'mere."

"Huh? What? Kris…?"

"Come _here_, dummy." She put her arms around him, drawing them both closer together. "I'm too wiped out to make it back down to the guest room. You don't mind if I crash here tonight, do you?"

"Uh, S-sure, I mean, no, I mean…"

"Good." She drew him in, resting her head against his bare chest, smiling. His arm went around her automatically, and her arms went around his lower back, drawing his center of balance all the closer to her, locking them together. "Now, just…try to relax, okay? Try to put these thoughts out of your head for now. It'll all get taken care of. But you know what they say: fools rush in, etc. So, _ipso facto,_ it follows that if we don't rush in, we're not fools. Just…get some rest." _Plus, this way I get to make sure you don't sneak off in the middle of the night on some Mission of Personal Vengeance. _She was asleep almost before she finished the thought.

Sleep was a long time coming, for him, though. And his dreams were filled with thoughts of the colossal underwater temple, and the dark haired mer-girl, who looked so strangely and hauntingly familiar…

…

Kris gradually came awake. It was just starting to lighten up outside; good thing it wasn't a school or work night/day. After all the shocks they'd both had, a little extra rest never hurt…if they could get it.

Cal's arm was still around her. It's hard to sleep face-to-face with someone and _not_ have your arm around them. She smiled, sleepily. Anybody else, this Would Not Be Happening, but this was Cal…

…But even so…waking up like this, so close to another, practically sharing the same breath…was… exhilarating …in a strange sort of way. Even if it _was_ Cal. Or maybe _especially because_ it was Cal…

"_Cthulhu….fhtagn…"_ he whispered, so low she could hardly understand him. What? Kathooloo? _Kthulhu_? Even though the words were foreign to her, she somehow understood their approximate spelling, at least phonetically…a legacy of being president, chairman, CEO, Board of Directors, primary reporter, maintenance tech, janitor, general factotum, chief cook and bottle washer for the school paper. "Kathooloo" sounded like a name….but what "fhtagn" meant, she didn't have a clue. Almost had to be a verb, though, but a verb meaning what?

This must be one of those nightmares he'd told her about, the ones with the nonsense words. "Cal?" she gently shook him, all the while wondering: could "Kathooloo" be some sort of corruption or translation of "Cal"?

Was he dreaming about himself?

"Cal?" She shook him a little harder, but his eyes stayed shut. For some reason she'd never be able to identify later, she was oddly glad of that. She wasn't sure she really _wanted_ to see into his eyes right then…

"Mmm." He shifted uneasily in his sleep, his arm still around her. "Cthulhu fhtagn…"

She raised herself up slightly, so that she was more face-to-face with him, practically nose to nose, both their heads on the same pillow. Whispered urgently but gently, "Who's Kathooloo, Cal? What's Kathooloo?"

"He dreams." Here he shifted uneasily in his sleep. "Must…protect…the begotten…" His eyes cracked open, and he woke up, to look her full in the face. "K-Kris? What—oh. I, I guess I fell asleep." His face took on a sheepish look.

"Well, of course. That's what beds are for, dummy." _They're good for other things, too,_ a grinning something whispered in the back of her mind. She told it to shuttup. This was _Cal. _"And you were exhausted." She rolled away from him, getting up. "Up and at'em, tiger. We've got battle plans to make."

Downstairs: he poured her a bowl of corn flakes, even as he readied the stove for bacon, eggs, and sausage. Neither of them had put anything else on. There was plenty of time for that, and this wasn't the first time Kris had stayed over, so she wasn't really worried about Mrs. Michaels's reaction to seeing her wearing one of her son's undershirts. Although, Kris thought to herself, it _was_ the first time she'd ever spent the night _with him_, actually _in his bed_. Again, that subtle thrill went through her. _Now stop that._

"She should be down any minute," Cal said, unconsciously answering the very question she'd been about to ask. "She's usually a pretty early riser. So, Kris." And he sat down at the table by her, closer to the stove, with its contents just then beginning to sizzle. "What do we do? You don't seem to think this thing of going to the police is the answer. Have you a better idea?" He got up, turned the eggs and sausage, checked the biscuits.

Kris was working her smartphone, her bowl of cereal partially consumed. "I think we could probably make a case for paternity, if we can just get a genetic sample. But now how much good that'll actually do, I don't know. As far as criminal charges go…I'll check with my dad's lawyer. He's pretty sharp when it comes to these things. But…Cal, it's like I said: you might wanna prepare yourself for the possibility that this guy won't exactly go to the slammer." She saw the look on his face. "I know how you feel, Cal. I feel the same way. But…we have to work with reality here, y'know? Besides. I'm curious: why _did_ this Brother Elder contact you after all these years? I mean, why bother? If it hadn't been for those letters, that check, you'd have never been the wiser.

"And there's another matter. I know you've been telling me about the money problems you've been having. But have you told anyone else?" He shook his head, not really trusting himself to speak. "So it begs the question: why did this perv all of a sudden get a generous streak? It's almost like he knew about your financial difficulties. If so…that could imply a certain level of surveillance. I mean, not only did they know how to find you, your mailing address an' all, they also knew you needed money." She leaned back, stretching her long legs out under the table, even as he got up to take up the eggs and sausage. The biscuits weren't quite ready yet.

"I've been thinking about that myself. But I haven't come up with any good answers. It's like you say: why bother to do anything now, after all this time?" He glanced up, in the general direction of his mother's room. "I hate to go wake her, she gets little enough sleep as it is. But she's usually up before now." Sigh. "Guess I'll break tradition." He scooped up the eggs and sausage, placing them on a plate. "You mind watching the biscuits while I see?"

"Sure, go ahead." And he disappeared up the stairs.

Kris stooped down and looked at the biscuits, just then beginning to turn brown. They'd be ready any minute…

Cal came bounding down the stairs. "Kris! She's _gone_!"

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3: Disappearances

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening: Chapter 3: Disappearances

….

_Once again, I strongly urge readers to go look up Thomas Perkins's retro comic covers for "Kid Kthulhu" on Deviantart. They are literally priceless!_

…_._

Chapter 3: Disappearances

Kris and Cal turned Lisa Michael's room upside down, looking for something in the way of clues. There were none. Wherever she'd gone, she'd taken no clothing, no shoes…nothing. Her bed had been slept in, but nothing was missing from her room. "He took her." There was barely controlled rage in Cal's voice as he stood by the window.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Cal. Let's look around the house some more."

But he was shaking his head. "We won't find anything, Kris. She's just _gone._ She was kidnapped._"_

"But how can you be so sure?"

"Look." He gestured towards the open window. "Mom _never_ slept with her window open. _Never."_

She padded over to him, still barefoot from the previous night. Sighed and took him by the arm. "Well, Cal, I…I don't know what to say. We'll file a missing persons, of course, but you know those don't go into effect until a person's been missing for twenty-four hours. Still, in this case…maybe…we'll see what the police can do." Right then, his phone rang.

He glanced at it distractedly. "Oh, this is from work…" Answered it, absently, almost automatically. "Hello? Oh, hello, ma'am. What, right now? But I…" He trailed off. Kris was gesturing for his attention. He pushed the "mute" button on the phone. "What?"

"They want you to come in?"

"Uh, yeah, somebody called in sick. No way I can-*"

"No, this may be the very thing you need, Cal. Look. I'll go down and file the MP. Yeah, they'll wanna talk to you later. But you just sitting around the house all day, stewing in your own juices is not gonna help anybody. So go on. It'll help keep your mind off things."

"Kris, I couldn't-*"

"Yes, you can and yes, you will. Besides. The less time you spend here, the less chance of futzing up the evidence they'll need to find her. Now, go on. I'll handle things from here."

…

Cal had a hard time concentrating on his job that day. It was more than a day shift; evidently an early evening person had called in, too. But he managed to get into his usual routine. Unfortunately, his thoughts of his mother, what had happened to her, and what could be happening to her right now, kept intruding. "Cal? You okay? You seem kinda distracted." Robert, the day manager, asked him.

"I wouldn't exactly say things are _okay,_" Cal said. Then he told him about his mother disappearing. Robert's jaw dropped. "Cal! You came in with all _that_ going on? You could'a bagged out easily!"

He sighed. "Well, it's like Kris said: my being there won't help matters. I'm sure, if they only will, they'll want to do a full forensic sweep, see what they can find. All I could do is stand around and get in the way." He shrugged. He didn't mention the part about their suspicions as to his parentage. "I just hope…." He found he couldn't go on.

Robert clapped him on the back. "I unnerstand, m'man. Look. Why don't you take off tonight? After eleven things usually settle down anyway. Go home and see what's going on."

"Thanks, Robert. I…I think that might be a good idea."

Walking back across town, he tried to figure it out. Had his mother left of her own free will? There'd been no sign of a struggle. But if she'd gone voluntarily, she surely would've taken a _few_ things. She wouldn't have just….left.

Try as he might, he couldn't come up with a logical scenario for her leaving under her own power. Which meant somebody else was responsible. But who? This Brother Elder?

Of course. It had to be. The letters…_if you would know the truth about yourself_…the phone number. Yes, of course. Brother Elder had just upped the ante.

So engrossed was he in his own dark thoughts that he didn't even notice the black sedan until it pulled up alongside of him, and several men in black outfits jumped out. "Whu-*" But with practiced ease, they swiftly overpowered him, duct-taping his mouth, handcuffed his wrists behind him, and shoved him into the car.

He struggled, but it was no use. The 'cuffs wouldn't budge, and the men got busy chaining him up, one chain around his torso, one around his legs. The last one led to a snap they attached to a large lead weight.

And they were headed right for the bridge….

_No!_ He struggled all the harder, but he could barely wiggle, so tight were the bonds enclosing him.

The car stopped in the middle of the bridge, and the men dragged him out. One of them reached into his pocket and deftly plucked his cell phone out, then signaled the others. Not a word was spoken the entire time.

They dragged him to the bridge railing, and unhesitatingly threw him over the railing and into the cold water below.

_I'm going to die!_ He thought. _No! Not…like this!_ But the chains around him were too strong, and the lead weight attached to him drew him straight down into the cold darkness of the river.

He tried to hold his breath. Surely, he could get _some_ leeway with these chains…if he could just get _one_ hand free…

But he couldn't. And his struggles were using up what little breath he was holding. Already, his chest was on fire….

He felt his consciousness fading. In a moment, it wouldn't matter; he'd be dead. _Kris!_ He thought/cried out…

…And took a deep, gasping breath, the river water flooding his lungs…

…_They say you lose consciousness…_

But Cal didn't lose consciousness. The water moved in and out of his lungs, thickly, leaving a poisonous taste in his throat. He found he had a hand free, and tore off the duct tape from around his mouth….

_He was breathing underwater._ But how was that possible?

The chains around his left arm seemed to've come loose in his struggles. Funny; this far underwater on a dark night, he shouldn't be able to see anything, but he could. One link was bent. He grasped it with his right hand and prized at it with all his strength. The link bent slowly, like he imagined cold silly putty might, but it bent. Soon, his arms were free. Now for his legs….

He swam up to the shore line, anger, fear, and a hundred other emotions warring within him. What in the _hell_ was going on?

The men from the sedan were waiting for him. He clambered out of the river, stood up, and faced them."What," he began, more angry than afraid, "the _hell_ was that all about? Who _are_ you people?"

One of them approached him. Cal watched nervously, but the man simply reached into his own pocket and produced Cal's cell phone. "It wouldn't do," the man said, "to get it all water-damaged."

Cal snatched at the phone, punching the "on" button. "You guys are dead meat!" He pulled up the dialer, and dialed "9", then "1", then….

They just stood there. What exactly was he going to say, anyway? "Hello, officer? These people just tried to murder me, but I was able to breathe underwater, so I broke free of the chains they had tied me up with, and swam to shore. What's that? Yes, officer, they're still here, looking at me. You wanna talk to them?" Yeah, _that'd_ really work. He looked at the silent men. "Anybody wanna tell me what's going on?"

The same one that had given him his cell back now approached him, pulling something out of vest pocket. He handed it to Cal. "When you are ready to know the truth, this map will guide you to us. Come alone. Remember: come alone." Cal took it without a word. "Stunned" didn't begin to describe his state of mind right then. The man could have handed him a live cobra and he wouldn't have known the difference. He was barely conscious of the men piling back into their sedan and leaving.

….

Kris was fast asleep when her doorbell rang. Groggily, she got up, rubbing her eyes and wondering who the devil would be calling at this hour.

A drenched looking Cal, still in his uniform from Whataburger, stood in the hallway, in front of her. "Kris? Can I come in?"

"_Cal?_ What the hell happened to you? You look like you just fell into the river!" she said, as she let him in.

"Close. I was thrown in. Man, that river water tastes _terrible._" He made for her bathroom. "I'm sorry to intrude so late, but your place was closer…and…to be honest, I need to talk to you about what just happened."

"Okay. But whaddaya mean, you were _thrown _in_?_ You mean like, _thrown in _thrown in?"

"Yeah. These guys jumped me on the way home, tied me up, and threw me in. But it…didn't exactly seem to work. I…it was…very strange." He paused, tromping his way towards her restroom. She followed, eyes wide. "Then they were nice enough to hang around, after I worked my way free, and give me my cell back. Oh, and this." And he produced the map. She took it, absently.

"Wait. Cal. Are you telling me some people just tried to _murder_ you?"

"I'm saying it sure seemed like they put forth the effort. I hope you don't mind if I splash off this river water….?"

"Uh, no, no, go ahead." She tore open the envelope, and looked at the map within. "Cal, this is a map to _Innsmouth._ And look: right here it says…." Then she stopped, mouth open in astonishment.

Cal had turned on the faucet, and, as he had countless times before, positioned his hand, edge canted down, and had drawn a jiggling globe of water into his palm. He splashed this liberally over his face, as always carefully keeping the water from dripping down onto the floor. Once it had rinsed his face off, he willed it back into his hand, an unsteady globe, which he then poured down the sink. "Cal. What. Did. You. Just. Do.?"

"Huh? I washed my face off. Why?"

"No, I mean…what was that with your hand?"

Total puzzlement. "Uhm. I'm not sure what you mean, Kris."

"Do that again." He complied, drawing water into a quivering orb, hovering just a few tenths of an inch over the palm of his hand. "Cal…how…long…have you been doing that?"

….

"All your _life?_" Two hours later, Kris still sounded shellshocked. "And…and nobody…I mean…no one…like…said anything?" They were sitting around the kitchenette's smallish table, Kris still in her blue pajamas and barefoot. She'd given Cal a robe to wear while she tried to get his clothes into some semblance of wearability.

"No—o. You're saying, nobody else can do that?"

"Well, _yeah!_ I mean…" Kris looked more stunned now than she had before. "I mean….I don't see how…it's possible…" She made an obvious effort to collect herself, looking at the map. "Okay. One earth-shattering factoid at a time.

"These people throw you into the water. You find out you can breathe underwater. No, make that _you can breathe water_. You break the chains they tied you up with." She paused, as though trying to digest what she'd just said. "Right. You just break the chains they tied you up with. You swim up, they give you your cell phone back…and you end up here, doing…that…with water." She slumped over, hands over her face. "Either I'm crazy or reality's gone completely bonkers. I'm not sure which I'd prefer."

"Kris, I don't understand. I mean, this thing with water…what's so unusual about it?"

"You really don't see, do you? Cal, you can _control water._ I don't know how you do it, but you can. And apparently, you can also _breathe underwater._ Now, surely you know _that's_ not normal."

"Well, yeah, I pretty much guessed that. I mean, I'm no Aquaman or anything…."

"Cal…I'm beginning to think there's more to this whole Innsmouth thing than meets the eye." She got up and put some coffee on. No way either of them was getting any more sleep tonight, anyway. "Cal…bottom line: unless I've gone completely crazy, and this is some kinda weird thorazine dream, you've got…well, let's face it, you've got superpowers. I mean, that's all there is to it. But _how?"_

They were both silent for a long time. Then, "The letter did say, if I wanted to know the truth about myself…."

"Cal, you _can't_ be thinking about actually, actually contacting this guy! I mean, he _took advantage _of your own _mother!_ And I'm sure these goons tonight were acting on his orders. You can't-*"

"I _have_ to, Kris. This creep has my mother! I'm almost sure of it! None of this is coincidence, I don't see how it could be. It's all interconnected. And like it or not, there appear to be truths about me I don't know." He stood up, resolution on his face. "If I'm ever to get any answers, I only know one place to start." He took the map, studied it.

Kris was studying _him._ "Cal…humor me, would'ja?" She pulled him into the next room, then vanished into her bedroom and came back clad in her swimsuit, the blue one-piece high-top she always wore to the beach. She was holding a pair of men's swim trunks. "Here. These were my brother's, he forgot 'em, last time he was here. They oughtta fit you…"

"Kris! This is no time for going to any beaches!"

"We're not, dummy. I wanna watch you shower. Now, come on. Besides, I gotta wash your other clothes, anyway." And she shoved him into the small bathroom. "Tell me when you have 'em on."

_Humor her, Cal,_ he told himself, even though he cringed at the thought of how much time he was losing. He slipped the trunks on, and opened to door. "Okay, already. But then I gotta go, understand? I mean, my mom's been kidnapped…" She made shushing noises and herded him into the shower, climbed in after him. "Now. Just shower the way you normally do. I just have to see this."

He sighed, turning the water on, willing the stream of water around him, the streams swirling around him like objects picked up by a tornado. Kris watched, fascinated, hands over her mouth, while he soaped himself as well as he could in the limited space, and _willed_ the hard streams of water to scour the soap and grime off of him. It was almost like a choreographed _dance_ of water… "'Course, you know, I usually…" He gestured at the trunks.

She didn't say a word, just continued to stare at him as though seeing him for the first time. "And…and you've, like, _always_ been able to do this?"

"Ever since I can remember.

…

"Okay. Let's go over our facts here." Kris had shepherded him out of the shower, washed and dried his clothes as best as she could. They were still a wreck, but they'd do to get him home. Barely. "One, you can breathe water. You can control water. And you can apparently _live_ underwater. Cal, this is sounding more and more like the Aquaman thing, actually."

He snorted. "So I'm the lost king of Atlantis?"

"Whatever else you are, you're definitely not _lost._ I'm convinced this 'Brother Elder' has been tracking you since the day you came home from the hospital. He probably gets updates every time you go to the bathroom. Yeah, _especially_ that, what with you being able to…do whatever it is you do, with water." Privately, she wondered: had Cal's mom ever noticed anything strange when she was bathing him as a baby? Or had these…there was no other word for them, _powers_, only began to actually show up as he got older? There was no telling.

He got up. "Well, no matter what, I've got to get back home." He wavered momentarily, as though trying to come to some internal decision.

"So what will you do?" she asked.

Shrug. "I guess…tomorrow morning, I'll look up that number and give the 'Brother Elder' a call, like he said. It's all I can do, for now, at least. And…see how things go from there." He frowned, trying to hitch his shirt and pants around to a more comfortable position. "I have no clue as to what he wants, but…he has my mother. He must want something."

She got up with him. "Cal…whatever you do, for god's sake, _don't_ go to Innsmouth. I don't care what the reason…this whole thing with you and, and these weird powers of yours…and you can bet the rent money Brother Elder is fully aware of them; that's why you got baptized tonight, I'm sure. They knew you'd survive. They even saved your cell phone for you! Knowing you'd come back for it! And, and I…can't see any good side to this, this interest they have in you. They probably want you to, to work for them in some way, rob banks or something. Maybe even take over someplace, some sea coast or island area or something. I know it sounds like something out of a cheap drama, but what else could they want? Especially if he's the one behind this kidnapping. So…don't go there, okay?"

He turned to her. "Okay, Kris. I understand. Really, I do. I'm not suicidal or homicidal; I do know better than to just charge in there like gangbusters. I'll just call him tomorrow morning and see what's going on, okay?" She seemed to relax a little. "Okay, Cal. It's just…I can't help but have a really bad feeling about this whole thing. Even more so than I normally would, I mean." She dodged into the bedroom and came back with her keys. "Here. I'll drive you home."

She drove him up to his front door. "Call me in the morning, okay?"

"Okay, Kris." He smiled encouragingly, and turned to let himself in.

She waited a few more minutes, noting the light in his bedroom window coming on. He'd no doubt be cleaning even more, getting a new set of sleep pants on. That river water had probably ruined his clothes, and he might have to spring for another uniform.

But after a few minutes, the lights went off, and she started her car and drove off.

A half an hour after Kris's car's lights had disappeared around the curve, a furtive figure emerged from Cal's house. He went to his car, started it, backed out, and headed out towards the intersection of the highway that led to Innsmouth.

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4: Explanations

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 4: Explanations

_Whoever reads this, I urge you to check out Thomas Perkins' Deviantart retro comic covers of "Kid Kthulhu." I just thought the idea was so awesome I hadda do somethin' with it. Here 'tis._

Innsmouth, 0100 hours: Cal drove along the dusty streets of the small town, noting its complete lack of modernity: there were no fast-food restaurants, no Wal-Marts, no nothing. Just residential houses clustered around a town square consisting of several stone or brick buildings, none of which looked like they'd been designed in this century. And maybe not the last.

Cal followed the map carefully. He hated to ditch Kris like he had, but she'd have insisted on coming along if she'd known. And his instructions had been very clear: _come alone._

So okay. Here he was, in the middle of this strange town, with questions, and a map leading right to….

….there. There was one central building that could've passed for a church, except for its lack of a steeple. He could see a light burning within, the only light he'd seen since coming here, anyway.

So. They'd left the light on for him, had they? How very "Motel 6" of them.

…..

Up the stairs into the darkened building. It looked like it might've been one wing of an office building at one time, but Cal noticed signs of decay. Most of the boarding was sound and tight, but looked to be unvarnished, giving it a retro look, as though it were an historical landmark.

The light was coming from underneath a door down the hall.

Softly, Cal eased down the deserted hallway. Odd, he thought; he hadn't seen any sign of anyone living here since he arrived. Moreover, he'd seen no sign of any animal life, either. No stray cats in the alleyways. Not even the call of a night bird outside. It was a little eerie.

The door was a standard office door, half-paned with reinforced glass. The sign on it read "BROTHER ELDER." Okay, he'd come to the right place…

To hell with subtlety. That had gone out when his mom had vanished. He smashed in the door, perfectly ready to do battle with the army of goons he knew had to be waiting on him, inside.

Instead, he found himself facing a perfectly ordinary looking man seated at a desk, a perfectly ordinary wooden desk, and writing on some papers in front of him. He looked up as Cal crashed in, not in surprise, but in what Cal could have sworn was a flash of irritation. "The door _was_ unlocked, Mr. Michaels."

…..

Cal looked him over. He hadn't known, exactly, what he was looking for—some foaming-at-the-mouth cult leader maybe—but this man was definitely not that. Rather, he resembled an upper-level bank officer, with steely-grey hair, perfectly combed, wearing a simple white shirt and black pants combo such as many businessmen wear. A thin black tie completed his ensemble.

But what impressed Cal the most was the man's composure. To have someone come bursting in on you in the middle of the night like this….yet this "Brother Elder" seemed perfectly at ease. He clearly didn't rattle easily.

But Cal's emotions were running away with him at that moment_. "You bastard! Where is my mother?"_

A look of total bewilderment came over Brother Elder's face. "What did you say?"

"I _said, where is my mother!_ You guys took her, I know!"

Now Brother Elder got up from behind his desk. He wasn't a short man, Cal noticed, and well-built. He obviously kept himself in shape. He approached Cal. "Young man. Are you telling me your mother is _missing?_"

"As if _you_ didn't know!"

"Actually, I _didn't_ know. When did this happen? And how?" He sat on the corner of his desk, his manner apparently one of complete attention. It didn't look feigned, Cal thought, with a sinking sensation in the middle of his chest.

"Last night, sometime. We—we got up this morning and she was gone. Her window was open, that's how I know she was kidnapped, mom _never_ slept with her window open. Are you trying to tell me you guys don't have her?"

"I am telling you _exactly_ that." He reached behind him and touched a button on the communications console on his desk, buzzing someone. Cal wondered who; he hadn't seen anyone in any of the other offices on his way up. "Sandra? Send Brother Oberon to my office, ASAP. Sooner, actually. Yes, I know he's asleep. _Wake him up_. We've an emergency situation." He turned back to Cal. "So she's been missing for…about twenty-four hours? That's bad. I wish you'd come to us sooner, but what is, is." He broke off as his door opened, and a robed, hooded figure entered. "Ah. Brother Oberon. We seem to have a problem here. Young Mr. Michaels's mother is missing, possibly kidnapped. We need you to do a trace on her."

Silently, the figure turned to Cal and looked at him from deep within the hood that obscured his features. He looked long and steadily at Cal's face, then turned his head from side to side, evidently getting a sort of a panoramic view. Never was a word spoken, and the whole process made Cal extremely uncomfortable, as though this "Brother Oberon" could see more than just what was on the surface. He couldn't make out any of the robed figure's features; even the eyes were hidden within the darkness of his hood.

Finally, he turned to Brother Elder and gave a curt nod. "Do what you can," replied the latter. "Do _all_ that you can. I don't have to tell you how important this is, especially to _His_ plans." Again, Brother Oberon nodded, and silently padded out of the office. Cal thought it odd that he had never spoken a word.

They were once again alone in Elder's office. "So," began Brother Elder, "I take it you received my invitations. All three of them."

Three? Oh, yes. "I don't know that throwing me into that stinking river counts." Cal was still boiling mad, even if these creeps hadn't been the ones who took his mother, this was still the guy…

"And what did you learn from your involuntary immersion, young Mr. Michaels?"

"What, you mean the breathing underwater thing?"

"Yes, the 'breathing underwater thing.' Surely you're aware that most humans can't do that."

"Well, I-*"

"And I know you've been having dreams lately. Dreams of being underwater. Far, far underwater, and that it's your natural element. Have you not?"

Cal gulped. How could this man know that? "Look. None of that matters. What matters is, even if you guys didn't kidnap my mother, you still r-raped her. Sixteen years ago." It was hard to get the word out.

Brother Elder sighed. "Mr. Michaels. I can understand your…issues with the matter you are discussing, but things are a bit more complex than you think. Please try to focus here. I did not touch your mother. Not sixteen years ago, not ever. I am not your father."

"Doesn't matter, it was one of your goons who did, you-*"

"Mr. Michaels. Stop for a moment. Just stop. Nobody is going anywhere right now. Now breathe, in and out. Good.

"Now let me say this, and this I absolutely promise you: none of my 'goons', as you so colorfully described them, had any form of sex with your mother. I will not lie to you: your mother was impregnated here. And, yes, given her condition, I doubt she would have been in any shape to give legal consent. So in that sense of the word, yes, she was raped. Neither forced nor abused, however, but…I suppose you would have to call it nonconsensual intercourse. But it was necessary. Very necessary. Otherwise, we would never have done anything to so draw attention to ourselves."

"'Necessary,'" Cal sneered. "Sure. I just bet it was."

Brother Elder gave him a long, measured look. "You and I have only recently met, so I'll overlook that remark. To return to the subject: you have discovered that you can breathe underwater, have you not?"

"Well, _yes,_ al_right._ So I can breathe underwater. What's that got to do with-*"

"And this doesn't seem a trifle _odd_ to you?"

"Well, yeah, okay, _odd_, but-*"

"Sit down. There is no need to remain standing this entire time." Brother Elder went around to his desk chair and sat down. Cal still marveled at the man's self-control. Somebody comes crashing into your office late at night, and he was treating it like it wasn't a thing. "Sixteen years ago, your mother came to us by way of a very bad automobile accident. Her husband was killed instantly, and she herself was hanging on by the merest thread. We brought her here, repaired what damage we could, gave her medical care. And then it was brought home to us that she was not merely a person in need, but also…also a vitally needed opportunity."

Cal could feel his blood start to boil again. "So you used her. You-*"

"Not as you suppose. And, just for the record, I spoke with her personally about…this matter, and she herself saw the very necessity of which I speak. Though, as I said, given her condition at the time, I am reasonably certain such agreement would not hold up in a court of law. But it was necessary for our purposes, anyway."

"And just what _are_ your 'purposes,' anyway?" He couldn't keep the sneer out of his voice.

Brother Elder leaned back in his chair. "That is why I've gone to such trouble to bring you here, young man. For you have a great destiny to play in the scheme of things. Indeed, one could easily say, you are vital to the continuation of life on Earth."

Cal snorted. "A little overdramatic, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think. Tell me, Mr. Michaels, have you ever heard of _Cthulhu?_"

"No, I-*" But then Cal thought. That word…it was a name, wasn't it? It _was_ familiar to him. But from where?

"In order to explain your being here, today, I must give you a capsule lesson in Earth's history. I'm sure you know that at one time, the world we now stand on was a seething ball of radioactivity."

"Well, yeah…"

"But it was not always so. There was a time, before all that, when this world was green and teeming with life. Perhaps not the sort of life you are familiar with, but life in its own regard.

"The Great Old Ones, Cthulhu, Yog-Sothoth, Yig, and Hastur, came to this world billions of years ago. They sought to make it their own. Naturally, as is the nature of such things, they fought for dominion. That proved to be a bigger mistake than they'd anticipated.

"For there are beings as far beyond them as they are beyond us: the Outer Gods, we call them. Of their true form, no-one knows. What they want, we have only the sketchiest of ideas. But one thing they seemed to prize above all else is _balance._ A balance of power between warring entities appears to suit them ideally.

"That balance was interrupted by the wars the Great Old Ones fought among themselves. And so the Outer Gods took it upon themselves to correct this matter. Harshly.

"They reduced the surface of the Earth to a molten slag heap. All life that did not have some means of extraordinary protection was obliterated. Great Cthulhu survived by retreating to his undersea temple, in the sunken city of R'lyeh, while Yig sought refuge deep within the Earth itself. Yog-Sothoth and They of the Air transposed themselves into another dimension in space and time, and so were spared the holocaust. Hastur retreated to the stars, to those worlds your Earthly scientists are only now becoming aware of.

"Life had to evolve all over again. This time, the Great Old Ones have and are taking extreme care to maintain this balance, lest any imbalance invite a return from those who destroyed this globe billions of years ago, and who would not hesitate to do so again. And that's where you come in."

While Brother Elder had been speaking, Cal had been listening with a growing sense of dismay. He could tell this guy really believed what he was saying. That meant that he, Cal Michaels, was in the company of a madman. Only a madman could come up with something like this.

A madman with a whole town of zealots eager to prove themselves. Brother Elder had as good as admitted that the men that had thrown him into the water had been acting under his orders. So they were ready and willing to murder at his command.

He had to humor him, somehow make it back to his car, and get out. Come back with the law. Or the National Guard. "O—okay…I come into this where, now?"

The barest hint of a smile touched Brother Elder's face. "I assure you I'm quite sane. Your own experiences should tell you that there is something very different about you. Breathing underwater, controlling water as you do—don't look so shocked, I know all about that, too—and you have to admit: not many sixteen year olds can break solid steel links, especially while tied underwater. Yet you did.

"As to where you come in….our god, Great Cthulhu, in pursuit of this necessary balance, deemed it useful, no, make that _vital,_ to have an, I suppose you'd say, an 'air agent,' that is to say, one not fettered to the water, nor to R'lyeh, where his tomb is." Brother Elder leaned forward and looked at Cal with what Cal could have sworn was absolute sincerity. "That agent is you, Mr. Michaels. You are Great Cthulhu's own heir, his own son. It was _He_ who impregnated your mother all those many years ago…in order to bring about you, to act as his agent in those areas where he cannot act directly." He leaned back again, eyeing Cal the whole time. "Yours is a necessary role. For if the balance of power should shift, in any way….

"….then all life on Earth is doomed."

…

_Okay,_ thought Cal, _crazy man here. How do I get away?_ But at that exact moment, a dark-garbed man came into Brother Elder's office, and threw something down on the desk.

With an annoyed expression, Brother Elder picked up the small plastic card. He turned to Cal. "Young Mr. Michaels. You were instructed to come alone, were you not?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Then who," he asked, handing the card, a driver's license, to Cal, "is Crystal Simone?"

"_Kris?_ _Kris_ is here? But, but I thought I ditched her…." Even as he said it, he knew what had to have happened: Kris had just gone around the corner and waited for him to leave. She'd followed him. Of course.

Brother Elder got up and headed for the door, his expression anything but pleased. "This poses a distinct complication." Numbly, Cal followed him down the hall to another room, smaller than the office he'd just come from.

They had Kris tied to a chair, with duct tape over her mouth. Her hair was in disarray, and it looked like she'd just pulled on the first clothes she could reach: shorts and a tee shirt. She looked up at him with widened, fear-filled eyes.

"_Kris!_ For the love of God, why'd you follow me?"

"It doesn't matter," said Brother Elder. "The girl has seen too much. We can't take the chance." He turned to one of the men standing by Kris. "Kill her," he said. One of the men drew a knife….

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5: Promises

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 5: Promises

_Once again, I'm indebted to the work of Thomas Perkins for his retro comic covers on Deviantart of "Kid Kthulhu" that inspired this story. Give 'em a look!_

…_._

"_No!"_ With one bound, Cal leapt across the room to her side. Two of the men tried to grab him, but he shook them off, slamming them against the wall. He tried to fight his way to Kris's side, but three muscular henchmen grabbed him, holding back, pinning his arms behind his back. "You kill her, you'll have to kill me too!"

"Come now, Mr. Michaels…"

"No! I mean it! You guys say you want my cooperation? Well this is the exact worst possible way to get it! You kill her, an' I can _promise_ you I _won't_ cooperate!"

The men suddenly froze in place there, looking at Brother Elder, who was as silent and as still as a tombstone, digesting what Cal had just said. The tableau hung there for a long moment, none of them moving, the man with the knife looking to Brother Elder for direction. Then, Brother Elder said "Will you, then, accept full responsibility for her?"

"Yes, yes, of course!"

"Aaand…." And here he glanced at Cal out of the corner of his eye, his head tilted to one side, "do you furthermore promise to return here, once she is safe?"

"Yes, of course!" _Whatever you say, just let me get us out of here safely, and I'll never come back._

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say the words. Say, 'I promise to return once my friend is safe.' Say it."

Gulp. "Okay. I promise to return once my friend is safe. There. Happy?"

Brother Elder turned to the others. "Let her go."

One of the men ripped off the duct-tape over her mouth, making her gasp and mutter a word that made Cal wince. But the others busied themselves untying her.

Presently, she stood up, muttering and rubbing her wrists, with Cal standing next to her, his arm around her, trying to stand between her and the zealots. "C'mon, Kris. We're so outta here."

He hustled her down the steps into his car, started the motor, and revved out of the town, leaving a short trail of burned rubber in his wake. "Kris," he began, "what in the _hell_ did you think you were doing?" He was actually shaking with the reaction.

"I was trying to look out for you, dummy! Make sure you didn't get in over your head. Then those guys jumped me."

He pulled over to the side of the road, and just leaned his head against the steering wheel, still trembling with released tension. "Do you have _any idea_ what seeing you tied up like that, about to be _killed_, for God's sake, _did to me?_"

She softened somewhat. This was Cal. "Well, hey, I'm sorry. I really am. I just thought I'd, y'know, be your backup. Turns out, I was the one needing rescue. Thanks for the save, Cal. You were my knight in shining armor. Well, shining denim, but you know." She smiled and stroked his arm in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "Hey, don't take it so bad, it's over with. Isn't it? What did you learn?"

…

He saw her back to her apartment, clearly nervous the whole way. He'd told her the story Brother Elder had told him. "So the guy's bughouse crazy. Now I at least know that much. But I really don't believe they're the ones who kidnapped mom." He'd seen her in, and was standing by the door, keys in hand, jangling them nervously. "Look, I'm gonna go back and get your car. And then I never want to see that place again…."

"Cal….you're going back there? Tonight?"

"I've got to, Kris! I've got to get your car."

"What about your car? You can't drive two cars at the same time!"

"Well, I'd…." Hmm. What _would_ he do? "I'll think of something. But I gotta go get your car. Who knows what those crazies could do to it. They could put a bomb in it or something."

She was eyeing him strangely. "Cal, would you do me a favor?"

"Can't it wait?"

"No. Look, just come over here to the couch. Now sit down." He sat, still fidgeting.

And she sat in his lap, straddling him, and proceeded to wrap herself around him, her arms around his upper torso, her body pressed up against his, her head resting against his. "I don't want you to go."

"Kris! What are you doing?!"

"Keeping you here. Unless you wanna carry me all the way back to Innsmouth, like a mother baboon carrying her young, you ain't goin' nowhere tonight."

"Kris, your car-*"

"Oh, _screw_ the car. Cal, can't you see what's happening here?"

"I'm….not sure what you mean. I mean, I gotta go get your car…."

"Think for a minute, Cal. Tonight, when those creeps were gonna kill me, you promised them you'd give 'em hell if they did. That was when they backed off. I noticed.

"And you _promised_ Brother Elder you'd return. You said the words. You said, 'I promise.' Didn't you? _Didn't you?_"

"Well….yeah, so?"

She drew his face to hers, and he noticed tear stains running down her face. "Cal, don't you _see?_ We just escaped from a bunch of kill-crazy cultists who were more than willing to kill _me_, and would have, if not for you, they made you promise to return, and now _you can't wait to rush back there as fast as you can."_

Some of what she said began to percolate through his mind. He _had_ been awfully eager to run back there….for reasons that could conceivably wait. "I….I don't understand…."

"Remember that course in medieval literature we took last year? Supernatural entities are bound by their words, like a contract. Especially so with written words, but spoken words, too.

"You made a promise. Now, you're gonna haveta keep it. _Because you are a supernatural entity_."

Whoa, thought Cal. If that was so….maybe this whole story Brother Elder had been telling him….could it be true? Even partially?

"But not tonight, Cal." She got up, and drew him into the next room. "Tonight I _own_ your ass. Here." She tossed him a pair of warm-up pants, turned to get her own pajamas out. With her back to him, she shucked out of her jeans and whipped off the tee shirt. "Kris!"

"Oh, come _on_, Cal! I'm turned away from you! Besides, we've…seen each other before."

"Yeah, when we were six!" He kept his eyes stubbornly turned away, his hand to the side of his face, shielding his eyes.

She shrugged as she tied up her hair. "Six, sixteen, what's the diff?" She stopped and he could feel her eyeing him. "What, aren't you ready _yet?_"

…..

"Okay. Explain it to me once more. What are we doing in bed together?"

She snuggled in closer, and he could feel the points of her breasts against his bare chest through the thin pajama top she wore. Funny, he'd never really thought about Kris's breasts before. He hurriedly switched his mind onto some other subject. "One, I need to make sure you don't go off again, following this, this curse or whatever it is. Compulsion. Not without me.

"And two…." And here she did something Kris rarely, if ever, did: she hesitated, drawing in a small, gasping breath. "Two, I, I just had a close call tonight. A really close call. I jus'… don't wanna be alone right now." She looked up at him. "You don't mind, do you?" He'd never heard Kris use that tone of voice before. She _had_ been scared.

When she put it that way… "Of course I don't mind."

Pause. Then, "Cal, I have a confession to make." He waited. "I, I was really afraid tonight. I mean, _really_ afraid. I thought my number was up. For good." Another pause. Then, "It scared me, Cal. I mean it really really scared me. I guess…I've never really been scared before. I always thought of myself as being tough, but…"

He paused, and she could feel him pulling her a bit closer. "Kris….I've never, _ever_ been so scared as I was tonight, when I saw that goon pull out a knife an' start for you... I'd rather face a thousand Freddy Krugers than that."

She pulled up until she was face-to-face and nose-to-nose with him. Looked him in the eyes, an unreadable expression on her face. Then a slight smile. "Well, I guess we can agree it hasn't been the best night for either of us." She paused, sobering, and looked deep into his eyes….

….and kissed him, right on the lips. Just a quick peck, but….she'd never done that before. "Uh, Kris?"

"Uhm, that didn't happen, okay?"

"O-okay. Uh, what didn't happen?"

"Exactly."

…

The following day: she insisted on driving back with him to Innsmouth. Getting dressed had been an adventure in turned backs and closed eyes; it seemed like she was unwilling to let him out of her sight long enough to shower, even. "You know," she'd said, "It's perfectly okay if you leave the door open just a crack. I won't peek, I promise."

"Honestly, Kris," he'd finally said, in exasperation, "now that I know—well, make that, _think I know_—what's going on, I can fight it. It's..it's really not all that bad." Finally, reassured, she actually let him close the door to the bathroom while he finished bathing.

But he had to admit, if only to himself: it wasn't easy. It felt like an invisible rope tied around him, pulling him back towards the town they'd both fled from the night before. He found himself wondering if, were he to lie down on a level plain or road, would he start rolling towards Innsmouth, like a child's ball rolling downhill?

They pulled up alongside her car. "Never mind the car right now, Cal. Let's just go on, and get it on the way out." He glanced at her; even though afraid, she was doing her best to remain calm, considering the scare she'd had the night before. And doing a better job than he could've done, he thought, had their roles been reversed.

And he could guess why. Kris had received a serious blow to her psyche last night. Now she had to face that fear again, or let it cripple her forever. For someone like Kris, that was the proverbial Fate Worse Than Death.

Back to Brother Elder's office. Cal couldn't have said why, but he was fairly certain Brother Elder would still be in his office. _Type A personality?,_ thought Cal. _Does it even matter?_

Brother Elder was still seated at his desk. He looked up as the two entered his office. It again struck Cal as odd that he'd never seen any support staff here; no receptionists, secretaries, or other screening personnel. He wondered why.

Brother Elder frowned upon seeing Kris. "You brought her back with you. I would have advised against that."

"Would you have rather she followed me again? Besides, I wanted her here. I…I have some questions."

"I'll bet you do. Remember, you accepted responsibility for her."

"Yes," said Cal, dangerously, "and I _also_ promised you I'd give you hell on Earth if you harmed her. That's a promise I won't have any qualms about keeping."

Brief pause. "So. You figured that part out, did you? Very well. I had hoped to get some more mileage out of it before you realized the truth, but no matter." He glanced at Kris. "The two of you may as well have a seat. How much did you tell her?"

"Right up to the part about 'son of Cthulhu' thing."

"Very well." He eyed Kris, who sat, perfectly composed, in her chair, not saying a word, eyes taking in everything about the man in front of her. Cal knew what she was doing: she was in "recording mode," as she called it, hearing and taking note of everything that was said with her near-photographic memory. She wouldn't speak up unless she had something of great importance to say or ask, and maybe not then. And she was sizing Brother Elder up: what sort of a person was he, anyway?

And, looking at Brother Elder, Cal realized he was doing the exact same thing to _her._ These were two elemental forces in direct opposition to each other, and battle had already been joined. It just wasn't an open conflict. Yet.

"What I told you last night was the foundation. But there is more. The Great Old Ones have a vested interest in seeing to the stability of the world, as you can imagine.

"But there are those with less interest in such matters. Such are the spawn of Ygdrll," he said, pronouncing the alien word with a certain amount of evident distaste. "Sometimes called the Silent Eternal Ones, or the Elder Things. From their deep-cavern fastness in the wasteland you call Antarctica, they have been actively seeking to destabilize the power balance on this world." So saying, he passed Cal the dossier that had been on his desk.

"But why?" asked Cal. "Wouldn't they be just as destroyed as everyone else?"

"Evidently, they believe not. Since they normally live in the deepest caverns of the Earth, perhaps they believe they could survive such a holocaust as the Outer Gods once visited upon us. Or, conversely, they may not care if they, themselves, actually survive, and may simply be intending the clear the planet off for re-colonization by others of their kind once the destruction is complete. Whatever the reason, as you'll see in the file, they have been resurfacing in such areas as backwoods Vermont, the Siberian tundra, the Australian Outback, and other even more desolate locales. From what intelligence we've been able to gather—and I grant you, that isn't much, for reasons I'll go into as needs be—they've been hard at work establishing new colonies, I suppose you'd call them."

"Right. Aaand…nobody's, like, noticed? I gather these guys aren't anywhere near human looking." He opened the folder. There were no photographs, but the drawings were expertly done: cone-shaped bodies, sprouting tentacles at what would be the head on a man, with what looked like expandable slug-like pods for feet. Nope, not human at all. There was nothing to indicate scale.

"They don't have to be. One of their more charming tactics is to simply surgically remove a human's brain and replace it with one of their own—evidently, there's a certain degree of compatibility—and the 'human' can go about 'his' business undetected. Oh, they are eventually found out, or go insane, but in the short term, it seems to work for them." He paused, his face taking on an even more solemn look. "That's the overall situation. What we face is essentially analogous to the 'Cold War' of a few decades ago, but carried to a somewhat greater degree, with a terrorist faction thrown in for good measure. The Silent Eternal Ones are _trying_ to bring about Ragnarok. And, as you may imagine, instability is not that difficult to accomplish. Particularly when we aren't completely certain what these Outer Gods regard as 'stable,' anyway."

"So," began Kris, "You want Cal-*"

"Ms. Simone. Your presence here is tolerated. But-*"

"Her presence here is more than _tolerated._ It is _required,"_ said Cal. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

They both stared at him for a long moment, and, for the first time, it seemed to him that a look of uncertainty flashed across Brother Elder's face. But if so, it vanished as rapidly as it came. "You _did_ say, last night, that she knew too much. In for a penny, in for a pound. Whatever you say to me, she can hear. Or do you truly think there's any point in trying to keep secrets from her?"

Brother Elder glanced down at his paperwork. "You….may come to regret that, young man. However, as you say, she already knows what she knows." He turned to Kris. "Please. Continue with your…interjection."

Kris stared a moment longer at Cal, then turned back to him. "What, precisely, do you want Cal to do?"

Brother Elder thought for a moment, clearly debating on whether or not to answer her. _Misogynist?_ Thought Cal. _Or just cautious?_ Then, "We need Mr. Michaels to act as our agent. There are several matters that need attending to. One, we need a deeper level of intel on what the spawn of Ygdrll are up to, deeper than our own agents can get. But to do that, he must first retrieve an object lost to us some time ago: the _Omnis Oculis_, or 'All Seeing Eye,' as it was called in centuries past. Though lately, it has been given another name: the Shining Trapezohedron."

"I've heard of that," said Kris, apparently unsurprised. Brother Elder raised an eyebrow at her. "Isn't it supposed to summon Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos?"

"Ah. I see you're familiar with the works of that early twentieth century fantasist. Except what he wrote about turned out not to be so much fantasy as fact disguised as fantasy. As such, it went unnoticed…for a while. Yes. A human, a mortal, gazing, unprotected, without certain safety precautions, into the Shining Trapezohedron will summon Nyarlathotep. That is…a circumstance to be desired only under very carefully controlled conditions."

"Okay," said Cal. "Where is this thing?"

"Oh, no. You're by no means ready yet, young man. First, you must be trained, trained to function in a combat situation. And then, you'll need to be trained in the use of those powers stemming from your unique heritage. All this will take some time. However," and here he paused, almost as though uncertain, though Cal didn't really believe that part. Brother Elder? Uncertain? Were the stars about to fall out of the sky? "There is…a matter which needs addressing, especially if Ms. Simone is going to remain a part of all this."

"What's that?" He tensed. Ever since last night, when one of Brother Elder's henchmen had almost killed Kris at his command, he felt very uncomfortable whenever she was mentioned.

"As I said, the Silent Eternal Ones have a unique infiltration tactic, that of supplanting human brains with their own. If she is to remain by your side, you—and we—need to remain sure that she is who she appears to be."

Cal felt his face pale slightly. He'd heard that, but hadn't thought it through. Glancing at Kris, he could tell she was troubled, as well. Somebody could take her brain out? Turn her into a zombie?

"I know that your mother is missing, and rest assured we are doing everything in our power to locate her. But this is one fate that will not befall her. While she was here,-and this with her wholehearted agreement, I might add—we subjected her to a process that renders her proof against such transposition. We can run the same procedure on Ms. Simone. In fact, I would strongly recommend it."

Kris looked askance at him. "What's the process?"

He spread his hands. "Quite quick and painless, I assure you. It essentially conditions the body so that, should such a tactic be tried against you, your mortal body would suffer a massive cardiac arrest and die."

They both gaped at him, stunned. "And this is your idea of a _solution?_" Kris's voice was practically a squeak.

"Considering the alternative, yes. It isn't known if the Silent Eternal Ones actually destroy the brain of their victims, or whether they keep them, alive, in some sort of containers. Given the state of their science, they easily could. Would you want that?"

Kris sat back, a look of shock on her face. Cal wanted to go to her, but restrained himself. "Can, uhm, we think about this? I gather you'd want to run the same procedure on me," he said.

"On you it isn't necessary. Yours is not a human physiology, not completely. Such an operation would be…unsuccessful on you, nor, really, would they attempt it, if they knew who you were. No, you they would simply kill. But your friend…" He left the sentence hanging.

"I, I'm gonna haveta think about it," mumbled Kris. "When do I need to let you know?"

"The sooner the better. But I'll leave that to you." He turned to Cal. "So, Mr. Michaels. What do you say? Will you help us, and thereby the world?"

Cal thought. He'd seen nothing to indicate that Brother Elder was lying, or, if he was, he wasn't lying in any way Cal could detect. He had zeroed in on certain aspects of Cal's life that lately had given him pause, and had given him an explanation—albeit a preposterous one, true—for those…things that had happened. And Cal couldn't deny that, after giving his word, he'd felt physically _compelled_ to return to Innsmouth….something unexplainable by any normal means.

And he desperately needed them—somebody—to find his mother.

"Assume I say I'm in," he began. Kris looked at him sharply, as though she wanted to say something. He could guess what. "Just assume. I presume you guys will continue searching for my mother?"

"Most assuredly. Although your mother is immune to the brain-switching technique, there are other things, perhaps even less pleasant, that could be done with her, to our detriment."

"When do I have to give you an answer?"

"Is something wrong with now?"

Cal bit his lip. "It's just so…sudden."

It might have been his imagination, but it seemed like Brother Elder's face softened momentarily. "I understand that. It's a lot to take in. But matters will not wait. Especially with your mother missing."

He looked up, a haunted expression on his face. "What….what do you suppose they'll do to her?"

Brother Elder shook his head. "I truly have no idea. Maybe nothing, but... It all depends on who kidnapped her."

"Cal," said Kris, "You don't have to decide tonight. Let's think this thing over before you commit yourself."

Now he shook his head. "No, Kris. There's really no choice. If even half of what I've heard is true…there's no point in hesitating." He looked up at Brother Elder. "But I can tell you right now I'm not promising anything."

"You won't need to. Once you see what we've to offer by way of proof, you'll see how vital your role is. I won't claim we're the 'good guys'—that's only for comic books and simple minds—but, in this, we are on the same side."

Cal stood up. "Well, then…provisionally, conditionally, I guess I'm in." Kris looked away, and he could've sworn he caught a fleeting glimpse of anger in her face before she did.

"Well said, Mr. Michaels. The two of you may return to Arkham now, while we begin preparation for training you. Ms. Simone," Kris looked up at her name, "I would urge you to give serious consideration to undergoing the treatment of which I spoke earlier. It could forestall a great many problems before they begin." Kris just nodded and got up, joining Cal by the door.

They were silent as they both went back down the steps to Cal's car. Without a word, he drove her to her car, and she got out, fumbling with her keys. "Kris?" She looked back at him, her expression unreadable. "Kris? What's wrong?"

She looked down at her keys in her hand for a long moment. Then, "Tell you later, Cal." Without another word, she got in her car, started it, and headed back towards Arkham.

_She's angry with me,_ he thought. But about what? Try as he might, he honestly didn't see how he could've done anything any differently.

…

He took his time getting back to Arkham. With just himself to feed, it just didn't seem worth it to cook, so he drove through a McDonald's and ordered some double cheeseburgers to go. Oh, and French fries. Wouldn't be McDonald's without French fries.

He couldn't help but wonder about the bills. True, he had check-writing privileges on his mother's account, but maybe tomorrow he'd have to go see Mr. Newsome, see what he recommended doing. And he'd better step up his job search; his little Whataburger check wasn't gonna cover anything now.

He wouldn't have to tell the bank everything—in fact, that would be decidedly unwise (and he grimaced when he thought that; it sounded like something Brother Elder would say), but the fact that his mother had been reported as missing, possibly kidnapped, would be common knowledge, so…

Kris's car was parked in the driveway when he got there. He sighed. So. He guessed they were gonna have it out now, rather than later.

She was sitting in the small dining room when he came in, her back turned to him. "Hey, Kris. Wanna cheeseburger?"

She sniffled, beginning to turn around, and that's when Cal received the shock of his life: tears were running freely down her face. She wiped them away, only to have more replace them. He came over and knelt beside her, his alarm rising. He'd never seen Kris actually _crying_ before. It was a little scary. Kris? _Crying? _ "Kris? What's wrong?"

She sniffled some more, wiping her eyes and nose, trying to regain control. "Cal, I. I dunno how to put this. I guess I'm worried about you. I mean, you just signed up to work for some people who are proven killers, all on the basis of some cock and bull story that somebody dreamed up a century ago. I, I'm not quite sure how to deal with that." She paused, the Kleenex in her hand crumpling and recrumpling. "I, I'm just not sure." She looked up at him, and he noticed her bloodshot eyes. She hadn't just started crying.

A crying Kris was a new experience for him, one he didn't know how to handle. Finally, he just gathered her in his arms and pulled her to him. "C'mon, Kris. I think it'll be alright. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Uh, draw a line through that, poor choice of words. I guess what I mean to say is, I really don't see this Brother Elder as sending me off on some suicide mission. You noticed, he mentioned training. So I'll train. They'll teach me. They won't send me off half-cocked."

Again, she sniffled, trying to rally herself, moving away out of his embrace. This was no way for a modern young woman to act; she should be tougher than this. "Well, I should _hope_ they'll train you. But Cal…all this…I mean, you just basically signed on to fight a war! People _die_ in wars!"

"But I'm not gonna be a regular soldier. If he was telling the truth, I'll be more like a special agent, a secret agent or something." He smiled. "Who knows? I might even get my own shoe-phone."

"_It's not funny, Cal!"_ Her shout took him by surprise. Noticing his shocked expression, she relented, embarrassed. "Okay, sorry, that was a bit much. It's just…I guess I'm having to get used to the notion that you've signed up for a job that might end in your death." Kris was coming to grips with a reality that many previous generations had dealt with: that of sending off their friends, husbands, loved ones, into a situation from which they easily might not come back.

How would she feel if Cal went out on a mission and didn't return? "Oh, _why_ did you haveta go and say you're in so soon? We could'a talked this over!"

"And decided what, Kris? You heard the man. You're a pretty good judge of character; do _you_ think he was lying?"

"No. And that just scares me all the more. Cal, you're not going out to fight people. That would be bad enough. But you…you're going out to fight _monsters!_" And she blew her nose, wiping her eyes at the same time.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Startled, she looked up at him. There was a new inflection in his voice, one she hadn't heard all that often: a kind of quiet determination. For better or for worse, Cal had made a decision.

And for the first time, she noticed how he'd grown since their grade school days. She barely came up to his chest. All of a sudden, those nights they'd spent together took on new meaning. _Will we ever have such times again? Do I want us to? And if so, would it still be as Just Good Friends?_ "Well, okay. I guess I just have to get used to my man going into the military."

"'Your man?'" _Huh?_

"Man-friend. Friend-boy? I dunno. But whatever you are, you're _mine,_ an' I don't wanna lose you. That's what has me so scared. Compared to that, having a knife against my throat was Sunday dinner." She came into his arms, still sniffling slightly. "So…if you're in, I'm in." Felt him tense against her. "Don't even start to think otherwise! I'm pretty sure Brother Elder would be tickled pink if I just withdrew an' never showed my face again, but that's not how I roll. But that means I'm gonna haveta depend on _you_, Mr. Hero, to keep me informed and in the loop. So." She stepped back. "Think I'll take that cheeseburger now. You did get fries, right?"

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6: Readjustments

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 6: Readjustments

_By all means, please check out Thomas Perkins retro comic covers on Deviantart featuring "Kid Kthulhu." Maybe if we all beg hard enough, he'll produce the comics!_

_Sorry for the length of this chapter, but it just refused to break down any further._

The days marched on towards graduation. Cal was spending more and more time in Innsmouth, training, Kris noticed.

And it wasn't easy training. Several times, she'd noticed him coming to school with definite bruises forming on his face. "It's how it's done, Kris," he'd told her. "I knew that going in. It's only in comic books that the hero gets some magic injection or radioactive insect bite and automatically gets all these cool moves."

"I still wish there was some other way," she said, during lunch. By mutual agreement, they only discussed casual topics outside of Cal's house. Brother Elder had had a team of his people do a complete scan of the house to make sure that, not only were there no electronic bugs, but also no scrying spells in place. That last had come as a shocker to Cal. But he was, after all, still getting used to the concept of magic, and it figured that if the enemy used magic in any form, intelligence gathering would no doubt be one of the first things they'd do. As far as the rest of the world knew, Calvin Michaels was taking ordinary martial arts classes. Yes, sometimes, those resulted in the occasional bruise.

But the end result was, Cal's house was now the only place where they could safely discuss matters, and Kris was spending more and more time there. She'd even set up a kind of mini-office there, a backup to her regular school paper office: laptop, printer, internet connection, the works. She could run her whole paper just from Cal's house.

And in the evenings, they'd go over what Cal had learned that day. "So," she began one night at supper, "what about these Outer Gods everybody's so terrified of? Where do they come from?"

Cal shook his head. It had been his turn to cook dinner that night, and the oregano chicken hadn't been just right, or at least it seemed to him. Not like the way his mo-*

He stopped, closed his eyes for just a moment against the pain. Breathe in, breathe out. Now. _Not like_ _his mother used to make._ Okay. May as well call it what it was. "No one knows," he said, hoping she hadn't noticed the brief hesitation on his part, "They just came onto the scene all those billions of years ago. Even if they did show themselves, there's no surviving record of what they looked like, and, of course, no knowledge of where they came from. Come from, I mean."

"You're sure they're still around, even?"

Nod. "Pretty sure. Here, look." He handed her a folder Brother Elder had given him. Brother Elder wasn't too keen on letting hardcopies of information get out. It was too easy for it to fall into the wrong hands…but the writing, the reports themselves, were written in a complicated cypher known only to the People, as Brother Elder called them, and served as its own code. It had taken Cal a long time to master it, and Kris was still trying. But she was getting there. "This tells about an incident that occurred not all that far from here, in both space and time. Ever hear of NGC 1952?"

"No, but it sounds familiar." She got up, carrying the dishes over to the dishwasher, rinsing them off and putting them in. "What about it?"

Cal leaned back in his chair. "In the year 1054 A. D., a new star was suddenly seen in the heavens. It was bright enough to see during the daytime." He sat forward, resting his chin on his hands. "That was NGC 1952, the central object in the expanding gas cloud we call the Crab Nebula today. About six thousand five hundred lightyears away from here, Kris. A whole star….blown to bits. It's now a pulsar, a spinning neutron star, but…Brother Elder tells me it was once a solar system much like Earth's, only with three inhabited worlds." He looked up at her as she came back to the table. "Worlds that got out of balance somehow. Or maybe it was just that there were _three_ of them; nobody knows. But one thing we do know, for sure: now it's _none_ of them. They blew an entire star system to pieces, Kris. All in pursuit of their precious 'balance.'" He couldn't keep the snarl out of his voice.

"Okay, Cal. Let's be reasonable here. How do you know it was the Outer Gods who did this?"

He ticked off the points on his fingers. "One, Brother Elder has records, transcriptions of conversations with the beings who lived there. Before his time, of course, but his organization is a good bit older than, well, than almost anything. Any government, anyway. They mentioned an escalating battle between some Great Old Ones, and expressed a fear that the Outer Gods would take note. Two, there's a certain amount of missing mass from the Crab Nebula that nobody can account for. Brother Elder's people think these 'Outer Gods' might've converted part of it into antimatter or something, and used that to destroy the star system. And three, he's got energy signature recordings that look a whole lot like what the Outer Gods usually exhibit." Sigh. "He admitted that none of this was totally conclusive, but it sure stands to reason.

"Brother Elder's organization isn't just on Earth, Kris. It extends way out, out beyond the galaxy, even. Carcosa…" he sipped his coffee. "They've been trying to coordinate with somebody they call the King in Yellow, who apparently is some sort of big-wig out there, to see if they can, like, track the Outer Gods. But Kris, if it was the Outer Gods…if it was…that's practically in our back yard, cosmically speaking. Only seven thousand lightyears away? And remember, that's when it happened, too: about seven thousand years ago. Kris, there were human civilizations on Earth at that time. Really old ones, and maybe not as advanced as Rome or Athens, but they existed. So that's within the lifetime of what we know. It's….awfully close for comfort."

She was silent for a moment. Then, "Well, I can't say one way or the other about it. But what's this with what he wants you to steal, or retrieve? From what I've read, in Lovecraft's stories, it's dangerous to look into the Shining Trapezohedron."

"Yes, it is. But, according to him, you have to take certain precautions about that. Gazing into the Trapezohedron will summon Nyarlathotep, true, but in that form, he can be banished with light. Pretty much any amount of light. Plus, Nyarlathotep can be useful. He's a courier-type entity, I gather, and can be used to run messages from one to the other safely—so long as he doesn't stick around. He's mostly neutral, but should he remain for too long, it could upset the balance.

"But the main reason we need the Trapezohedron is this: apparently, if used properly, it functions as the universe's ultimate long-range spycam. You can use it to zero in on whoever or whatever you wish to spy on, and you'll see it. And two-way communication is possible, too; it'll facilitate communication with this King in Yellow, and maybe help put everybody's heads together. Kinda like Skype, but on a cosmic scale."

"So…where do you come in with all this?" She sat back down, looking at him.

"They think the Silent Eternal Ones have the Trapezohedron. But they don't know. And if they do have it, there's no telling _where_ they have it. The Silent Eternal Ones can't use it, themselves, but they can have any number of humans, either slaves or unwitting employees, look into it for them. Then, if Nyarlathotep gets them—well, they won't really care."

"So Nyarlathotep, what? _Eats_ people? Or…?"

He was shaking his head. "No. Not _eats._ But he frequently carries whoever summons him off into some far corner of time and space, maybe even another universe or something. Don't know why. 'Cause he can? Maybe that's his idea of chuckles or something."

Now she shook her head, looking down at the table. "Cal…I just really wish you hadn't ever gotten involved in all this."

"Kris…it was always too late. The day I was born. I mean, _some_thing was gonna happen. I really didn't have a choice. You remember, way back when, at school, when I thought something flew past me?" She nodded, wordlessly. "Brother Elder's convinced that was a minion of Yog-Sothoth, They of the Air. So I've been watched, Kris, like you said, probably ever since I came home from the hospital." He crossed his arms across his chest and shrugged. "I really don't think I ever really had a choice, actually. I mean, sooner or later…"

They were both silent for a moment. Then Kris spoke up. "Well. It's almost time for _Person of Interest_. Wanna go watch it?"

Minutes later, seated with Kris on the couch in front of the TV, Cal reflected on just how lucky he was to have a friend like her. With most people, all this would be pushing the weirdometer 'way too far over, but Kris just sucked it up. She was really a trooper.

She sat beside him on the couch, legs drawn up under her, leaning up against him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it dimly registered that she'd never actually done this before; she'd sat with him, true, but always just side by side, never actually touching. And he noticed she'd brought her pajamas over; she was clearly intending to sleep over.

He was glad of that. Ever since his mom had disappeared the big old house had just seemed so _empty_ somehow.

So now she leaned against him, half-drowsing as the detectives closed in on the killer. A couple of times, he glanced at her, worriedly. She was visibly exhausted. After all, she not only had school and homework, the same as everyone else, but she also ran the school paper, and had taken time out of her busy schedule to help him with this fantastic secret life of his. He doubted he'd have that kind of endurance. Fortunately, it wasn't a work night for him.

He stole a glance down at her, with her leaning against his side. That thatch of unruly black hair, dark brown eyes that were now nearly closed, heart-shaped face now relaxed in a state very near sleep. And he realized something, something he'd never really thought about before.

Kris was beautiful.

Not just pretty. Not just a "good looking girl," or even an "attractive young woman." No. Kris, his best friend, was drop-dead gorgeous. There was just no other way to look at it.

Of course, he could never tell her that. It…just wouldn't go with their relationship. She'd probably think he was making fun of her if he said anything like that, and, of course, he'd never do that. Not if he wanted to live.

He shook her, just a little. "Kris? Maybe you need to get on to bed. You're out like a light.

"Mhm." She woke up, stretched and yawned. "I _am_ wiped. Think I'll turn in." She got up and made for the stairs. "Uh, Cal?"

"Hm? Yes, Kris?"

"Aren't you…tired, yourself? Wouldn't you like to…lie down a little?" There was something odd, a sort of hesitancy, a curious inflection, about the way she said those words that barely registered, flickering across the back of his mind.

"It's okay, Kris, I'm good. I think I'm actually getting used to this crazy schedule. Maybe I'll stay up, watch the news, clean up a bit. Then I'll hit the hay."

There was a long, long pause on her part. Then, "Okay. Well, see you in the morning." And she retired to the guest room.

Something about that exchange nagged at him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but…something seemed to've happened, that he wasn't even aware of. The he shrugged. It was probably just his imagination.

Lying in bed, Kris began to mentally kick herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _What _had_ she been thinking?

Well, actually, she knew _exactly_ what she'd been thinking. She'd been wanting Cal to come and lie down…with her. And yes, for _that_ reason. _That had to have been the absolute clumsiest seduction attempt in the history of the universe,_ she thought to herself.

Was she _falling in love with Cal_? She didn't know. She did know, with sudden realization, they'd never dated anybody else; any social function requiring a couple, they'd always gone with each other. And never thought twice about it.

And she had seen several of the girls at school giving Cal "looks," especially once he hit his growth spurt. For some reason, that had angered her. Who did they think they were, anyway? But he'd never noticed them, in spite of a couple of them practically falling all over themselves to make it known to him that they were, _ahem_, _available_. The tramps!

So here she was, lying alone in the bed in his guest room, wishing she were upstairs with him, in his bed. Not just for the sexual part, but…also because she missed just _being_ with him. Oh, sure, she was _with him_ now, but she found herself wanting…more. She wanted to _be with him_, like those cozy nights they'd spent, snuggled together, arms around each other…

Enough of this. Cal was her friend, her best friend. She'd never, ever hurt him, or put him in a position where he could be hurt because of her. And right now, he was preparing to go into a war situation. Maybe actual combat. The last thing he'd need was a new emotional complication. It would only serve to distract him, and distractions could get him killed.

She pulled out her MP3 player, inserting the earbuds in her ears. Some music would soothe her, help her get to sleep….

"_He's so fine (du lang du lang du lang)_

"_Wish he were mine (du lang du lang du lang)_

"_That handsome boy over there (du lang du lang du lang)…"_ _Snap!_ Off went the player.

Maybe there were some good infomercials on….

….

Cal's dreams were troubled, but not as they had been. With his acceptance of his unique heritage had come a kind of inner peace. He wasn't certain he _liked_ being what he was, but at least now he _knew._

But now, he had dreams of a different sort. Rather than being underwater, as he had previously dreamed. No, now he dreamed of being…

Somewhere.

It looked like outer space and it didn't look like outer space. All about were not only stars, but formless blobs that contracted and expanded at random. Overall was a thin, monotonous piping, completely tuneless to Cal's perception, but a piping he was unaccountably glad to hear. He knew, somehow, that if that piping were to cease, so would everything…

….

Kris was waiting for him when he came home from Whataburger the next night. "Here. I made you this. Put it on."

He turned the garment she'd handed him over in his hands. It looked to be a standard _karategi,_ altered slightly and recolored. "What is this?"

"Your uniform. Go on," she pushed him towards the door of his room, "try it on. I may need to make adjustments."

"My _unif-*_ Kris! What are you-?*" But, even as he spoke, she continued to push him into his room.

"Oh, come on. You can't fight the Forces of Evil in a pullover and blue jeans. Okay, maybe you can, but what's cool about that? So here. I fashioned this out of some old _gis_ I got off Ebay. Go on, see if it fits."

He knew better than to argue with her. Grumbling, he went into his room. "Kris! A _cape?"_

"Capes are cool!"

"Capes are _retro!_"

"Just put it on!"

"_Okay,_ already, I'm putting it on!" _Grumble, grumble. _He opened the door. "There. Happy?"

She circled him, looking him over, up and down. The _gi_ had been altered to be a loose-fitting garment, gray overall with red straps criss-crossing and tightening over the arms and legs. A red cape was thrown over his shoulders, depending downward off his back, but with enough of it up front to cover the lower half of his face. On the torso of the gray uniform, she'd sewn in a yellow winged "K" superimposed upon a vaguely octopoid symbol. "What's the 'K' for?" he asked, his voice muffled by the part of the cape across his mouth.

"Kid Kthulhu." She measured him with a measuring tape, then stepped back and produced a camera, snapping a few pictures from various angles.

"Uh, Kris? There's no 'K' in 'Cthulhu."

"I know." _Snap, snap._ "That's deliberate. Guards you against nymic spells. Spells using your name." She snapped more pictures. What was she doing all that for, anyway? "There's no '_K_' in either Cthulhu or your name, so this'll have the effect of misdirecting or blunting any spells using that principle. Now look." Here, she directed his attention to his cape. A little more than midway down were some flat pockets sized to accept credit and ID cards. "You can keep whatever cards you may need in there…and you can easily ditch the cape if you have to. Plus, there's a change-pocket. It'd be a helluva note if you couldn't save the world because you didn't have change for a toll booth somewhere." Again, more pictures.

"But I don't think I'll even need this! Brother Elder tells me I have this, this alternate form I can shift to, I look nothing like myself. So I mean…"

"But it's _functional_, Cal. Modesty is only one reason people wear clothes. This outfit not only combines the modesty thing—you surely didn't think you were gonna go fight butt naked, did you?—plus it's useful. The cape holds your stuff, and the garment itself is loose enough to be comfortable, while still concealing your identity. And, just for the record, I made it out of FR material. Well, most of it. A little something extra. Now. Try shifting to this alternate form, and let's see if I need to make any adjustments."

"Uh, o-okay." And he concentrated….

Kris stepped back a ways, her hand over her mouth, her camera forgotten. Where Cal Michaels had stood was now a green biped with slightly oversized hands, and feet with digits that seemed more related to tentacles than toes. His head sloped upward, the top part sweeping backward, down his back, also curiously resembling tentacles. But said tentacles didn't show any indication of independent movement, for which she was grateful. Right then, this was a bigger shock than she'd really been prepared for.

But she rallied herself. She'd known he'd look different; she just hadn't exactly figured on just _how_ different.

"Kris?" His voice seemed unchanged in inflection, but there was a curious intonation to it that hinted at a vocal apparatus unlike that of human beings. _Most_ human beings, she corrected herself. This was still Cal, her best friend. Appearances really didn't matter. "Kris? You're lookin' a little shell-shocked on me, here."

"Oh. I, I guess I…sorry, Cal. I knew you'd look different, it's just…"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "You can say it. I'm a monster."

"You are not." She circled him again, noting that the costume still fit in all the right places. Good, good. She'd deliberately made it loose, since she had no idea what his body shape was going to be like, once he transformed. "I might need to take it up a little, here in the butt…"

….

"I believe," began Brother Elder, "that you are ready for your first assignment." He passed Cal a dossier. "The last reported whereabouts of the Shining Trapezohedron was here: Providence, not all that far from where you live."

"I've got grandparents there," said Kris.

"This does not involve them." Brother Elder spoke sharply, and Cal found himself a bit perturbed by the suddenness of the words, even as he agreed with them. He just didn't like anyone talking to Kris in that tone of voice. "Frankly, I wish it did not involve you. But Mr. Michaels insists upon your presence…" He noticed Cal simmering, and paused, seeming to relent a bit. "I've no doubt you've every good intention, Ms. Simone. But the inescapable truth is, your presence introduces a variable into the equation. No matter what your intentions, good, bad, or indifferent, the more variables in any given situation, the more chances there are of things going wrong. We don't need that. None of us need that."

"Believe it or not, I understand," said Kris. "Not that any of that matters at this point. I'm here for Cal. In that, I think we could safely say we're both on the same side here. Don't you agree?" Before he could reply, she continued. "I understand you're trying to contact this King in Yellow?"

"We are. As you may have deduced, our organization extends much farther away than the confines of the atmosphere."

"But if you could contact the King in Yellow, would this not upset the balance? Cal told me about the Crab Nebula."

Brother Elder shook his head. "We would not ask for assistance for precisely the reason you just stated. But we could request resources, tools, information, and technology. The Outer Gods apparently do not regard something as upsetting the balance unless it directly results in war of some sort or another. But of course, I have to say that with reservations; given that they are completely nonhuman intellects, precisely what they term 'war' is subject to debate. But perhaps, with proper communications, we could learn from the mistakes of others." He turned towards Cal, who'd been taking it all in. "Plus, there is another reason why we need to establish reliable, real-time communications with distant Carcosa. Mr. Michaels." Cal started. "Tell me about your dreams. Anything unusual, lately?"

Cal thought, stroking his chin. "Well, I still dream of the underwater city, and the people there—you called 'em Deep Ones, didn't you?—but noth-* Wait. There was one…different from the rest. Something about a flute or some sort of musical instrument. And, and, in space, or something that seemed like outer space. Is that significant?"

Brother Elder sighed, and was silent a moment. Then, "To be honest, I had hoped that particular aspect of your distinctive nature would never surface, no matter how useful it could be to us. For, you see, as the direct, lineal descendent of Great Cthulhu, you have the ability, unique to you and to you alone, so far as anyone knows, I suppose I should say, to contact a being who _might_, who _just might,_ be a match for the Outer Gods, in terms of sheer, raw power. That being is known as Azathoth, sometimes referred to as the 'Nuclear Chaos,' 'nuclear,' in this context, not referring to any sort of primitive atomic weapon or reaction, but to location. Azathoth is thought to live at the very center of all reality, and to author and sustain reality as a whole from there.

"Now, I see the question forming in your mind already. If we know of this powerful being, why have we not contacted him already, and secured his help in our troubles? The answer to that is this: Azathoth is not sane. Not by any standards of any people anywhere. He is absolutely unpredictable. By contrast, the Outer Gods are models of predictability; we know something of their nature and goals. But Azathoth…we know less of Azathoth than we do of any other ten mysteries combined.

"And there is a further complication: one thing we do know, or suspect, I should say, from the writings of They Who Have Gone Before: evidently Azathoth…sleeps. Or reposes in some similar manner. All that you behold," he gestured around the room, obviously including the universe beyond the ceiling, "is a dream of his. The piping of the flute you heard was your mind's way of interpreting whatever forces are at work keeping him in that slumbering state. For if he should awaken…" Brother Elder drew a deep breath, "then all would be no more."

Both Cal and Kris were silent for a moment, absorbing this new bit of information. "So…I can contact this…er, guy?"

"You _can,_ but I strongly urge you _not to._ Ms. Simone, this is one instance in which your influence could be useful. You could provide an anchor for Mr. Michaels, Jiminy Cricket to his Pinocchio, so to speak. You cannot deny you have a certain degree of influence on him."

"Wait. Why would I even try to contact this guy, or whatever he is, if that's the risk? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Another pause. Then, "Yes. Not only might you be tempted—sorely tempted, I might add—to make use of such ultimate might…but there is also the very real danger that Azathoth may contact _you._ He may, in a sense, use your connection with him to awaken. This makes it doubly important that this is one aspect of your heritage you leave alone. Your own sanity would suffer, and in so doing, would give access to a being who could end all reality merely by opening his eyes."

…

Providence, Rhode Island: Cal and Kris arrived at eleven at the Holiday Inn near Brown University. Brother Elder had stressed that this was a recon mission: from all reports, the Shining Trapezohedron was no longer in the old church on Federal Hill, but there could be clues to be found. Plus, he'd stressed, it was important to locate and retrieve the ancient books supposedly sequestered in the old church. "They, too, may be long gone, but we have to know. I doubt you'll have any serious opposition, but best to prepare for the worst."

Cal went to the front desk. "Yes, sir?" asked the clerk.

"Ah, yes. We," here he gestured to Kris, carrying her rucksack over her shoulder, "we need rooms for the night.",

"Room," said Kris, softly.

Cal turned to her. "Huh?"

"Room." To the clerk, "we need a room for the night. Have anything available? Preferably overlooking Federal Hill?"

"Kris?" But she just shushed him, keeping her attention on the clerk.

"Yes, ma'am. As a matter of fact, we do. It's upstairs, however…is that a problem?"

"Not at all. Cal. Pay 'em." Her face was composed, as if she did this all the time.

"Uh, o-okay." He gave the clerk his credit card, signed the forms. All the while glancing out of the corner of his eye at her. _What's this all about?_

Once upstairs, they rapidly got settled in. "Okay," he turned to her, "What was all that about, downstairs?"

She spoke distractedly, hanging her clothes up. "Cal. We're on a secret paramilitary mission into what could easily be enemy territory. Do you really think it's a good idea to get separated? If one of us needs the other, down the hall or even right next door is likely to be too far away.

"Besides, you still don't have the right mindset. This is a covert operation, right? Now, if anyone is expecting you, they're expecting _just_ you. Us being a couple could throw 'em off." Even as she said the words, "a couple," a small shiver went up her spine. _There you go again,_ she told herself, for the umpteenth time.

"But there's only one bed in this room."

"It's big enough for us both." She turned to face him, smirking. "Or don't tell me you're scared?"

"Not _scared,_ Kris, it…it just seems…oh, never mind. Not the first time, I guess." There was no point in arguing with her; once Kris made up her mind, she never changed it. "You gonna see your grandparents tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No. They're on a cruise, anyway. They're not even in town now." She came over and sat on the bed by him. "So. What's the plan?"

…..

"God, Cal, that thing's _huge._" They were driving by the abandoned church on Federal Hill.

It sat atop the very apex of the hill like a giant wart, rounded roofing serving to delineate the tall steeple ascending from the church upward, somehow reminding Cal of the legend of the Tower of Babel. Well, if the reports were to be believed—and believe them he did—that was not a completely coincidental resemblance. "Yeah. It is. Some professor named Bowen bought the building 'way back in-*"

"1844. I know. I read up on it. He started the 'Starry Wisdom' sect, presumably using this Shining Trapezohedron he came into possession of, during one of his archeological trips to Egypt.

"But either he messed up or didn't care, because his use of it summoned the Haunter of the Dark, one of Nyarlathotep's incarnations. And apparently, some other poor sap managed to summon him again in 1936, guy by the name of Robert Blake, a writer. Cost him his life."

He stared at her. "You _have_ been reading up on this, haven't you?"

She shrugged. "I figured I might as well be your Pokedex. But Cal…look." And she directed his attention to the windows. "Look. They're all intact. All of them. Do you see any of them broken?" He shook his head, puzzled by that himself, now that his attention was drawn to it. That…was unusual. Glass, after all, is pretty easy to break…especially if you throw a rock through it.

Evidently, the church's rep had been sufficiently scary to keep even small children away…either that, or the windows had been replaced.

If so, by who?

Back at the hotel: Kris had showered, but had put her jeans and shirt back on, and Cal was showering up. Although the hour was late, it wasn't anywhere near over for either of them. He noticed, however, that she'd brought her normal blue pajamas along, and was oddly grateful of that; it just seemed like a touch of home right then. And, though he strove not to think of it, the notion of Kris wearing something…more feminine…was just a little disturbing to him. He was becoming increasingly aware that his childhood friend was no longer a child. And neither was he. "So…tonight, you're gonna go sneak in this steroidal church…" She looked over the schematics Brother Elder had given them, "through the basement? But I guess the front door's locked, anyway. Then, you gotta make your way up to the steeple. Here, look." He came out of the bathroom, pulling on his "Kid Kthulhu" uniform she'd made for him, or, as Kris called it, his "work clothes." "There's this room right back behind the, the baptistery or whatever, marked with an 'X'. Brother Elder thinks that's where they squirreled away all those weird books they had. But I don't know if I'd place too much hope on them still being there."

"I won't. But we need to know. And if they are there…I haveta try to bring as many back with me as possible." Hey, he thought to himself. He could wrap 'em up in his cape. Maybe capes _were_ cool, after all. "But the Shining Trapezohedron…." His fingered described a path from the basement up to the steeple, "…should be…right about here. If it's here at all."

"Now, this area right above…that's where you don't need to go."

"Exactly. By all accounts, that's where the Haunter of the Dark chills out, when he's here in this world. So if he's here, that's where he'll be."

"Cal..what will you do if…?"

He pulled out three military-grade strobe grenades from his pocket. "Light one of these. And run."

"Backup plan?"

In response he pulled two flares from another pocket. "Last ditch effort. These could easily start a fire, but that'll just give more light. And fires can be put out."

She sighed. She really couldn't think of anything else…"Suppose you meet, like, henchmen, or, or just regular thugs?"

"_That's_ when I'll need those martial arts moves, I guess."

…

"Biggest damn church I ever saw," grumbled Kris, behind the wheel of the car. "What _were_ they thinking, anyway?"

"Well, I guess if you're the leader of a theosophist cult who believes you're better than the average bear, a humongous church makes sense."

"Yeah, but it was a regular church before, wasn't it? The old 'Free-Will' church? Though I can't quite wrap my head around what the opposite of a 'Free-Will' church would be…I thought they were all kinda free will."

"Well, anyway, here I go. I'll meet you back at the hotel, okay?"

"'Kay." Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't make the mistake of thinking you're Jackie Chan, okay? I want you back in one piece."

He blushed. "Okay, Kris. Well, see ya." And out he went.

…

Back at Innsmouth, Brother Elder was in his office when someone buzzed for attention. "Yes?"

"_Sir, I think you should see this."_

"Send it up to my personal terminal."

"_Yes, sir."_ Presently, his terminal announced the arrival of a video file. He opened it, running it through his video player.

At first, it showed the Earth from space. The video had clearly been taken from orbit, no doubt by one of the human's spy satellites. The time and date stamp indicated a time of two days past.

The picture moved down, the field zooming in, narrowing down to an active volcano in Italy, specifically that of Mount Etna, which had recently shown signs of becoming dangerously active. As he watched, the picture zoomed in all the more, the resolution indicating that the file had to have been acquired from a hacked government database. _Humans,_ thought Brother Elder with a slight smile, _so convinced they're at the absolute pinnacle of technological development._ He wondered how they'd feel if they _really_ knew just where they stood, not only technologically, but socially, biologically, and ecologically. Well, not his problem, at least not right now.

But now his attention was drawn to a small dark spot in the very center of the volcano's caldera. A dark spot that moved.

Still the camera zoomed inward, ever downward, until he could make out a _figure_ diving, sliding, actually _swimming_ in the hellish lava. A humanoid figure. A humanoid figure that, just now, surfaced from the molten rock…

….and threw back her shoulder-length hair, resting on top of the lava as though it were the world's ultimate tanning bed, evidently enjoying the awesome heat. A girl, swimming there, unharmed, in the lava sea.

_This complicates things,_ thought Brother Elder.

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7: First Mission

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 7: First Mission

_As before, be sure to check out Thomas Perkins' "Kid Kthulhu" retro comics covers on Deviantart. They are the inspiration for this story. I really wish they were real. Thank you, Thomas Perkins!_

…_.._

_Author's Note: Sorry for the brevity of this chapter. I had more than this written, but my computer crashed last night and, even though I thought I had the document saved, I evidently didn't have it saved as thoroughly as I would have liked, and so I lost it anyway. What follows is my best recollection of what was lost._

_Anybody interested in purchasing a slightly bullet-damaged computer?_

…_._

_As if things weren't complicated enough,_ thought Cal. He, with Kris's help, had memorized the layout and plans of the old church, with an eye towards getting in the best, most efficient manner. Except some things didn't seem to correspond; either the plans were inaccurate, or there'd been some modifications since these were drawn up.

Movies made it look so easy: just find the handy-dandy air vent (which was always wide enough for a water buffalo, let alone a human being and a camera) and wiggle along it to the secret room. After all, no matter where the secret room was, whoever used it had to have air, right?

Only problem was, _every_ room had an air vent, and there were no signs saying, "This way to secret room!" There were far too many to memorize accurately.

Water pipes were another matter. Not every room needed water.

He'd settled on the baptistery. At first, he had wondered if a church built on or prior to 1844 would have plumbing like that, but a little research had shown him that this one, at least, did. It might have been installed in there after the Starry Wisdom sect took over; if so, he shuddered to think of the ways that "baptistery" might have been used.

And he'd learned something about his alternate form: much like an octopus, it didn't seem to possess a solid skeleton. So he located a good, solid four-inch pipe, concentrated, changed, and _squeezed_ himself into the narrow metal shaft.

Push, push, squeeze, squeeze. It was the weirdest sensation, like pouring himself through the drain. Sometimes his feet were on top of his head, other times his head was down around his rump. _Helluva superhero I make._ Now he knew how the Grinch had felt in the old cartoon, squeezing himself down the chimney. But he made progress, a little at a time…

Outside, less than a mile away, Kris waited at the rendezvous Point A. All that talk about "meeting him back at the hotel" had been for the benefit of whoever (or whatever) might have been listening. True, they'd rented a room back at the Holiday Inn, and even hung clothes there, but they were throwaways; they never intended to go back for them. Prior to arriving, they had secured a room at another hotel, one closer to the highway…and a fast escape. After all, Providence might well be a two hour drive from Innsmouth, but, depending on what they found (or what found them), it could easily prove to be a hour's drive back.

She drank another cup of coffee, wishing she'd brought decaf. The espresso wasn't helping her nerves. For the fifty-thousandth time, she wished Cal had never gotten involved in all this, and for the fifty-thousandth time, she reminded herself that it was already too late the day he was born. He was right about that.

She had her communicator on. If she should have to move the Point B, she'd signal him by turning it on and off twice. The low click and hiss of static turning on and off hopefully would not attract attention.

Hm. Maybe she should move to Point B anyway, then move back. That way, not only would she be less likely to attract the attention of a passing cop looking for loiterers, but she would have a better chance of seeing if anyone was trailing her. Yeah, maybe she sho-*

At that exact moment, her own communicator switched on and off three times in rapid succession, and Kris sucked in her breath. That was their agreed upon signal: _I'm not alone in here._

Cal had managed to come up a drain into an old-style clawed-foot bathtub that had definitely seen better days. He shrugged; could have been worse. He could've come up in a toilet.

He eased out into the hallway, checking the mental maps in his head with the visual he was then processing. He still didn't quite know how his sight functioned, but somehow he could see in complete blackness. Brother Elder had explained that it didn't depend upon the electromagnetic spectrum.

There; that room should be the one where they were supposed to've secreted their most valuable tomes. And _damn!_—it was locked as tight as a drum. And it was a good, thick, solid wooden door; if he broke it down, he may as well send up a signal flare.

That's when he heard the faint scratching sound from down the hallway and to the right. He froze, slowly looking around. There was nothing to be seen.

Every nerve tense, he edged down the crumbling hallway to a passage that seemed a little better lighted, though not by much. Carefully, he peeked around the corner—and saw, or thought he saw, something disappearing around another corner farther down the new hallway.

Was there somebody else here? Leftover cultists, maybe? Or treasure seekers? Brother Elder had cautioned him that the books were quite valuable to any number of humans, and the Trapezohedron itself, of course, was beyond price. So it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that fortune hunters or even knowledge seekers might be here, looking for these same artifacts.

Of course, it could just be some vagrants using the place as shelter, but strain his senses as much as he could, he couldn't detect any sound of voices, no matter how hushed.

Before he looked for any books or anything else, he had to know if there was anyone else here.

Easing down the hallway, he found himself oddly grateful for his octopoid alternate form: it was soft, and made no more sound on the loose floorboards than a large jungle cat would have. He treaded softly down the hallway, turned right…

There was only one door down this hallway; it was closed. Cautiously, he crept up to it, and was delighted to find it was of an old fashioned type requiring a rather large key. Large keys meant large key_holes_, so after making sure he was alone in the hallway, he bent down to peer through.

What he saw inside almost made him gasp. For within the surprisingly spacious room were four large, whitish, conical beings, each anywhere from eight to ten feet tall, with gently waving tentacles where their heads would be, swaying back and forth, in eerie silence.

The Spawn of Ygdrll!

….

Kris was getting nervous, a nervousness made all the worse by not having clue one as to what to do about it.

All she knew was that Cal wasn't alone in the abandoned church. She could guess it wasn't any sort of normal company, no homeless people or pranking kids or anything like that. Besides, surely any human would've run from the place upon seeing Cal's Kid Kthulhu form. But who did that leave?

…

Softly, softly, Cal backed up, taking care of where he stepped. The Silent Eternal Ones, here? That upped the ante somewhat. He had to get out before they spotted him. He signaled Kris...

Wait. The Silent Eternal Ones wouldn't be here because of any books. From what Brother Elder had said, they didn't even use books, or any sort of written hardcopy. So what could they be here for?

_The Shining Trapezohedron._ It was the only thing. It had to be here, somewhere. Maybe they were trying to use it even now to summon Nyarlathotep. If it was here….

….he had to find it. If they were trying to use it, he had to stop them. Somehow.

Cautiously, he crept back to the ladder that led up to the steeple, looking around at every step. He might be more than human in this form, but he had no desire to find out the hard way how he measured up to these monsters, not just yet, anyway. That wasn't cowardice, it was just common sense.

He climbed the ladder, brushing the cobwebs away as he did so. There; at the very top of the ladder was a small trap door, just about big enough for a man to squeeze through. Well, he could certainly manage that.

Then it occurred to him: if the Trapezohedron was here, and if it was up in this room right over his head, there were probably other Elder Things up there, too, probably guarding it. But still, he had to know. Maybe…

Carefully, with infinite slowness, he pushed upward on the trap door. At first, it stuck, and he pushed just a little harder, holding onto the handle to keep it from popping open.

He eased the door open just enough to see…

…that less than an inch away was the pod-like "foot" of a Silent Eternal One, practically standing on the trapdoor itself.

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8: Fire and Water

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 8: Fire And Water

….

_If you don't check out Thomas Perkins' "Kid Kthulhu" retro comics covers on Deviantart, you're missing a lot. If I only had that kinda talent..._

…_._

Outside: Kris was dithering on whether or not to move closer.

True, the plan had been for her to wait for Cal at one of the rendezvous points, but that was before all this happened. And although she knew the plan had taken into consideration that there might be someone there, in the old church, still, she couldn't shake the notion that she ought to be closer.

_Stick to the plan, girl,_ she told herself, drank more coffee, and waited, grimly, for any sign of communication from him.

….

Cal froze, even as he recognized the futility of the gesture. The Silent Eternal One _had_ to have seen him; there was no way it could have overlooked him….

…except it didn't move. It didn't move in any way. The ones he'd seen downstairs had been swaying gently back and forth, either in communication with others of their kind or ritual. This one didn't move at all. Maybe it was asleep? Or whatever equivalent state they had?

The trap door was already open a bare inch. He dared to look around the darkness of the room, ready to slam the door shut should the monster next to him make any move.

The alien made no move at all.

Cal knew he was acting completely crazy, but by then, as he'd later on attest, his sanity seemed to be on a coffee-break. Rather than leaving as quietly as he could, he gingerly opened the trap door just a little farther, and took a look around.

Except for the Silent Eternal One standing next to him, the room was empty. The only other object in it was a low table, off to one side. Cal spotted a very faint gleam of light coming from something on the table.

Could this be the Shining Trapezohedron? And yet, what else could it be? Maybe the Elder Things had brought it back here for some reason. It would make a certain amount of sense; they probably had no desire to summon Nyarlathotep from within their own deep caverns. And Nyarlathotep might be more noticeable to the Outer Gods if summoned closer to the surface.

The alien beside him still made no move. Its tentacles were absolutely motionless. Was it trying to trap him? But how could this be a trap? If it had been hiding behind some barrier, he could understand, but it was standing _right freaking there…_

Surely, nothing was _that_ stupid.

(Then he asked himself which one of them he was referring to.)

He slowly lifted the trapdoor. The hinges didn't squeak; they must've been oiled at some time. Just a little more…

He had the trapdoor open enough to squeeze through comfortably. A few careful moments, and he was standing right beside one of the very monsters he'd been so thoroughly warned about.

Which still made no move. Maybe it was dead? But no, he recalled that the Elder Things were more closely related to fungi than any sort of Earthly animal or vegetable; they'd rot quickly. And even if one was dead, for whatever reason, it surely wouldn't just _stand there._ He was practically helpless here; all it had to do was reach out and grab him…

Nothing. The creature made not the slightest move.

Softly, Cal padded over to the table. Resting on the table was an oblong box, exquisitely carved, of some highly reflective silver metal, seeming to actually glow in the stygian darkness of the room. Cal noticed the windows had all been boarded up, and became nervous. By all accounts, that was what Nyarlathotep, in his incarnation as the Haunter of the Dark, required to manifest himself here. Was the Haunter already here? But look around as he might, he could perceive nothing out of the ordinary, besides, of course, the silent alien standing right by his only mean of egress.

He swiftly but soundlessly gathered up the box, stuffing it into a pocket, while fishing out two of the flash grenades from another pocket. If the Haunter of the Dark was here, he'd need 'em. He glanced back at the Silent Eternal One by the trapdoor. He might need 'em anyway.

Carefully, he made his way over to the trapdoor, the grenades clutched tightly in his tentacle-like fingers. Eased down the ladder, all the while never taking his eyes off the horror beside him…

…and just as he was about to close the trapdoor, a tentacle shot out from the thing's "head" and wrapped around his neck.

…

Outside: Kris had decided: if she didn't hear from him soon, she was going to move in closer. Brother Elder had told her that they could call for backup, should the situation warrant, but he'd stressed for them not to do so unless the situation was grave indeed. Bringing down the People's equivalent of a commando extraction squad would be sure to be noticed, and they were trying to avoid that. She imagined he'd have a few choice words for her if she called in for such support just because Cal had run into some trick-or-treaters.

But, _dammit_, _this was Cal! Her Cal!_

…

Without even thinking about it, Cal slipped his head through the impromptu noose of the tentacle the Silent Eternal One had wrapped around his neck, slipping his malleable form out like a bar of soap. Okay, no need for subtlety now…

He practically belly-flopped down onto the floor (_have to work on my landings; that did not look cool_), and turned to run towards the nearest exit. Fortunately, it was in the other direction from the roomful of Elder Things he'd seen earli-*

_Boooooomm! _It sounded like a bomb had gone off. The entire building rocked, wooden rafters and dust cascading down upon him, the concussive effect of the blast rocking him back on his heels. What th' hey?

It seemed to've come from the area where he'd left the Elder Things. Even as he thought that, a wall of flame shot across the hallway he'd just come from, its light stunning him momentarily. He could feel the heat all the way down here…

Another blast, and a shear plane of fire sliced through the wall closer to him, almost hitting the ladder he'd just come down. He backpedaled furiously. What was this? He had to find a way out, whatever it was.

He turned and ran. According to the specs, there should be a boarded up window at the end of this hallway. It wouldn't matter now if he smashed through it; in all this confusion, he doubted anybody would even notice.

Was this the doing of the Silent Eternal Ones? Had they booby-trapped the whole church? Or…

There was a blast of sparks and a wave of heat from the wall to his left. A figure appeared in front of him, blocking the way, a figure so unlike anything he was expecting that he paused momentarily and stared.

It was the figure of a girl seemingly made of fire. Although it was hard to tell, she didn't look any older than himself. She turned, saw him, and assumed a battle stance. "You. Abomination," she snarled, and he could feel the heat from her hit him with physical force, "give me the _Omnis Oculis_ or I'll fish it out of your ashes!"

Outside: Kris, not more than a mile away, heard the initial blast. Okay, that settled it. She needed to be closer. The original plan had been based on him sneaking out, more-or-less unnoticed. From the sound of that explosion, "unnoticed" just went out the window.

She revved up the car and hurried towards the scene of chaos.

…..

Cal didn't stop to think. Instead, he threw her the first object he could think of—which happened to be one of the flash grenades he'd been readying in case the Haunter should make an appearance. "Here! Catch!" And, making himself as slender as possible, he dove between her legs.

The heat, as he passed through her outstretched legs, was incredible, like being between two large bonfires. But in a moment, it passed, and he was up and running for the boarded-up window behind her.

He smashed out of it just in time to hear the grenade go off. Frantically, he curled into a ball as he fell towards the street below, landing with a kind of sickening _squish._

Well, he thought, one good thing about having no bones was he didn't have to worry about _breaking_ any. But boy would he ever have bruises in the morning.

Now. To find Kris…

A fierce war cry split the night, and the flaming girl smash-burned her way out of the church, angling over his head, apparently flying under her own power. _"You will burn for that!"_ Fire shot from her outstretched hands, forcing him to dodge, almost tripping over the fire hydrant he'd landed by.

Wait. Fire hydrant?

Desperately, he turned and wrenched off the plug. The massive stream of water erupted from the sidewalk…

…and he _bent_ the stream, angling it towards the flying fire girl.

The water hit her full-on with the force of a cannon, wrenching a shriek from her, and knocking her back into the now-flaming church. Steam rose from the fires where the water touched, and he could see steam rising from within the old building, along with the smoke from fires still burning.

"Cal! Come _on!"_ Kris, bless her, had pulled up to the curb, probably having heard the sounds of the chaos. He rapidly vaulted over the car's hood and made to unlock the passenger side. Whoever that girl was, surely the fire was no danger to her.

Then he hesitated. What about the smoke?

He made a decision. "Here!" He opened the door, and threw in the box containing the Trapezohedron. "Wait here! I'll be right back!"

"_Cal!"_

Back in he rushed, searching, trying to peer through the smoke. He could feel the heat from the approaching flames. There; about where he expected to find her, lying face-up, was the body of a girl, an unconscious girl, seemingly human, with a haystack of bright red hair, a girl in her mid to late teens, lying in a puddle of ashes, charred lumber, and steaming water. He ran to get her…

She was completely naked.

This caused him to pause only a moment. Well, really, what had he been expecting, anyway? Surely, anything she was wearing would've gone up in flames when she exercised what was obviously her power. He stooped to lift her. _Hope she stays out for a little while longer!_

Back out into the night he carried her. There; he could put her down by the dumpster. She ought to be far enough away from the smoke there. He started to put her down, when it occurred to him:

Completely naked girl.

_Unconscious_ completely naked girl.

Unconscious, _very attractive_ completely naked girl.

Leave her behind a dumpster in a bad part of town in the middle of the night? Ah, no. Not a good idea.

Moving as swiftly as he could, he carried her over to Kris's car and stuffed the girl into the back seat. Kris's eyes almost ran out on stalks. "Cal! What _are_ you doing?"

"Probably something stupid. Quick, get us to the motel!"

"Who _is_ that, anyway?"

"Tell you on the way. Just drive!"

…..

"So…let me see if I have this straight. This chick just tried to barbecue your ass, and you wanna bring her back to _our_ room?" She risked a nervous glance backward. The red-haired girl was still unconscious, lying on the back seat of Kris's car, her legs folded against the door. "Am I missing something?"

"Well, we're leaving right away, anyway, aren't we? And you know I couldn't just leave her there. No telling what could've happened to her."

"Yeah, but I know exactly what'll happen to _us_ if she wakes up," Kris grumbled, "but okay. What's done is done. I just hope she's out for a few more hundred minutes." Then she smirked. "First mission, right out of the box, and you're already running around with naked women. I c'n see I'm gonna haveta keep you on a short leash."

"Kris!" He rolled his eyes. "You know it's not like that!"

"I know, but it's so much fun to tease you with it. Anyway, here we are."

….

Aidoann woke up with a splitting headache and the sick feeling of failure in her gut. Wait; where was she?

She sat up, realizing that she was naked. Well, she'd expected that part; there was no material on Earth that could withstand her heat when she was in her alternate form. She routinely either had to strip completely before transforming, or else be resigned to the fact that whatever she was wearing wouldn't be there when she changed back. She seemed to be alone. But where was she?

It looked to be a little motel room. In a nice, comfy bed. For a brief, horrible moment, she wondered if she'd maybe gotten drunk and gone with someone, the way you hear about some girls doing, even though she knew _she'd_ never do that. Not her! Anyway, she hadn't been drinking …so what had…?

Oh. Right. The mission. She put a hand to her head in an attempt to still the throbbing…retrieve the _Omnis Oculis_ from the Elder Things' sanctuary…her fight with the Deep One, the grenade, the water…then nothing. She'd failed. He, the _thing _she'd fought, had gotten the best of her. So how had she gotten here? Had her conqueror _brought_ her here? To what was obviously his temporary base of operations? Why? What possible rea-* Oh. Oh, no.

Anxiously, she checked herself. No, she seemed to be…alright. A few bruises, but nothing that the fight itself couldn't account for. So…she hadn't been…okay, good. She breathed a huge sigh of relief. But why had her opponent brought her to a motel room, when he could have so easily just left her to die?

She got up, alert for any sound of anyone, but she seemed to be completely alone. She searched the room, but found nothing that could tell her anything about it former occupants. Well, since she _was_ alone, and already here…

She showered off in the bathroom, using the hotel's complimentary soap and shampoo. Not her favorite brand, but it would do. The water washing over her bare skin soothed her somewhat.

Whoever had left her here had also left some old clothes of various types, no doubt intended as a cover up, to make it seem like they really intended to stay. Well, she couldn't stay here; no doubt the hotel maids would be in any time now. She had little doubt that whoever had rented this room had already checked out. She couldn't imagine any possible scenario in which they'd return, especially with her here.

She found some jeans that fit her—barely. Either she was just a bit larger than their previous owner, or said previous owner was fond of blue jeans tight enough to require a shoehorn. A pullover shirt, also skin tight (either that or sized for somebody a trifle less well endowed) completed the ensemble. There was no underwear, but this would keep her from an indecent exposure charge, at least. She brushed her hair back as best as she could. One thing the hotel didn't supply was hair brushes, especially hair brushes sturdy enough for _her_ hair. Now. Time for a little play acting.

She made her way to the front office. As she expected, the maid was just then headed for the room, for a post-checkout cleaning. "Oh! Miss! I'm sorry! I, I thought the party in room 106 had left!"

"Uh, well, actually, they have, or at least I think they have," replied Aidoann, with what she hoped looked like a nervous smile. Her temper was boiling, but there was no reason to take it out on these people. They hadn't done anything. "Uhm, I, I seem to have had a bit…too much to drink last night, and apparently some…friends of mine brought me here to sleep it off. Except, except I can't remember who they were. Can you help me find out? I'd really like to," and here, her hazel eyes blazed ever so slightly in the noonday sun, "_thank_ them for their kindness."

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9: The New Complication

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 9: The New Complication

….

_By all means, everyone who reads this should head on over to Deviantart and check out Thomas Perkins' retro comic covers for "Kid Kthulhu." 60 pages for 12 cents! Ah, for the good old days!_

…

Brother Elder shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's true, Mr. Michaels. Yes, you did brave incredible odds, taking great risks. No one can fault you for that. But the simple fact is this: this," and here he held up a glittering crystal, "is _not_ the Shining Trapezohedron. It's a very good imitation, I'll grant you that. But it's only an imitation."

Cal swore. He and Kris were in Brother Elder's office back at Innsmouth. "So the whole trip was for nothing."

"Not for nothing. You did extinguish a nest of the enemy, and you made sure that, if those books were there, they are there no longer." The building had burned flat. "So no other innocent-or perhaps not so innocent-human soul will stumble over them and be seduced by the promises of power in the books. If they were ever there at all.

"We have added to our fund of knowledge." He'd already shared the video of the fire girl bathing in Mount Etna with them. "This whole endeavor….seems to have been a trap. But was it a trap for you, or for her? Or was it perhaps for both?

"Plus we now know, not only of her existence, but also her involvement in this matter, which we didn't know before."

"But who _is_ she?"

"Unknown. But…judging from her abilities, I would say she has some connection to Hastur. Hastur, as I may have mentioned, is known predominately for his mastery of fire."

Cal thought. "So….could she be, like, the daughter of Hastur?"

"It's quite possible. For certain there's a connection there someplace. The problem is, we have no knowledge of any other organization such as our own revolving around Hastur. Prior to this, it was thought that he had simply returned to the stars from whence he came. But if our surmises are correct, he apparently still exerts some influence over this world, as well." He sighed. "Anyway, while we can't call this mission a complete success, neither can we call it a complete failure. We—_I_—will have to research this fire girl, to see what role she plays in all this."

Outside, Kris caught up with Cal, hooking her arm through his. "Cal? You're not…you know…depressed about this, are you?"

He thought. "Well, maybe a little. I mean, first mission and I can't help but feel like I bollixed it totally, Kris. I didn't get the books, I didn't get the Trapezohedron…it just all seems like it was an enormous waste of time."

She leaned her head against his arm. "Well, don't be. Brother Elder's right: you did accomplish some of your goals. For a first mission it wasn't all that bad."

"Hmph."

"Tell you what. Let's go home an' I'll whip up some lasagna. You know you can eat your weight in lasagna. How's that sound?"

His spirits lifted a little. Yeah, he did like Kris's lasagna. "Okay. You're on!"

…..

Monday morning: Cal and Kris had arrived early, and were talking about some of the things Arkham High had planned for its student body. "…tellin' ya, Cal, these tail-gate parties are where it's _at._ I mean, free food, music, and the game starting. We just _gotta_ go!"

"Hey, I'm game. But fair warning: the first sign of booze or drugs, an' I'm outta there."

"Well, you and me both, on that. But we could just circulate. And you don't have anything else planned,"—meaning as Kid Kthulhu—"…it'll be fun!" The other classmembers had been steadily trickling in.

"Class!" Ms. Kellam rapped on her desk for attention. "I have the honor of announcing a new addition to our class. She's an exchange student from Scotland. Please welcome Miss Aidoann McCloud."

Cal and Kris's jaws dropped in unison. The girl who'd just come in, and was presently standing in front of the class, was none other than their erstwhile adversary from the previous night, the fire girl.

…..

Lunch: Cal and Kris sat at their usual spot. Aidoann had selected a spot as far away from anyone as she could get, closer to the door. "Cal…it couldn't possibly be…I mean….could it?" Kris's face was pale, and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the newcomer.

"It's her, Kris. I got a pretty good look at her that night-*"

"Yeah," Kris smirked, "I saw you gettin' a 'pretty good look.'"

"Of her _face._ C'mon, Kris."

"It wasn't her _face _that made your eyes bug out of your head, you letch, you. Oh, I understand, ya big dummy. Hot, naked girl in your arms…if you _didn't_ get an eyeful, they'd probably take away your official 'Fight Club' bar of soap." But then she sobered. "You suppose she tracked us here?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. We were careful not to leave our real names with the hotel staff, and I doubt they supplied her with any accurate description. If they had, she'd've probably gone all Hiroshima on us before now. But I don't think her being here is complete coincidence, either."

"Well, then," said Kris, squaring her shoulders, "there's really only one thing to do. C'mon." And she got her tray and led him over to the red-haired exchange student. _"Kris! What're you doing?"_ But he followed along behind her.

"Hi there!" Kris said to the girl, who just then looked up in surprise. "Mind if we join you?"

Aidoann examined the newcomers, the short, dark, energetic girl, and the tall, slim sandy-blond haired boy. Of course, she knew all about American teenagers, but these didn't seem so bad. They were at least clean; evidently, they paid some attention to personal hygiene. She couldn't see any needle tracks on any of their exposed flesh, and their eyes were clear, at least right now they were. And if the girl was pregnant, she wasn't showing.

She started to tell them that she'd rather be alone, when it occurred to her: she was, after all, a stranger in a strange land, here. It wouldn't hurt to make the acquaintance of some of the locals. They could prove to be useful sources of information. "I…suppose not."

"Awesome!" The two sat down, at the table across from her. "I'm Kris, by the way, and this is Cal. And you're…Aidoann? You go by Ann, or Annie?"

"No. I go by 'Aidoann.' That is, after all, my name." They could hear the faint Scottish brogue in her voice.

The dark haired girl just shrugged. "Sure. So you're from Scotland? Glasgow?"

"No. I am from Dumbarton. It is not far from Glasgow, however." Just how much should she reveal to these people, anyway?

As she talked, she sized up the two newcomers. The brunette seemed to do most of the talking, but she noticed the boy looking at her, examining her. Hm, she thought. Not bad looking. Too bad he was an American. He'd probably lost his virginity in the sixth grade, if not before, and, for all she knew, might well be paying child support even now. After all, that was American men for you: penises on legs. She resolutely kept her lips from forming into a sneer. _Behave, Aidoann. You are a guest in this country, after all. And you won't be here long enough for any of this to matter._

The girl was still talking. "…just wanted to come over and say welcome to Arkham, and to the States, in general." She glanced at the boy. "Both Cal and I are from this area, so we've never really traveled abroad."

You keep referring to the both of you, thought Aidoann. Of course, they were a couple. Naturally. Probably living together, even if they were underage. She knew "morals" had gone out of style long ago in this country…they were probably, what was it called? Oh, yes: _banging_ each other every night. And every other chance they got.

"Uh, Aidoann? I'm not sure you really want to eat that." The one called Cal indicated a serving of some sort of grayish…something on her tray.

"Oh? And why might that be?"

"That's what we call 'Mystery Meat.' We don't know what it is. It's usually _edible_, of course, but…seldom good." Aidoann noticed that they had not touched their own servings of the "mystery meat." "Hey, Aidoann. You know what most of us do, on days like today? We've got time, so we usually head over to the Burger King across the street. Believe me, the food's _much_ better."

Aidoann looked at her tray. Truth; she was hungry. Her powers used up a lot of calories. But she didn't doubt but that this "mystery meat" could easily be something she'd really rather not put in her mouth right then. At least, not until she knew more about what it was. And, while she was at it, how it was prepared. "But do we have time?" She checked her watch: thirty minutes till next class.

"Sure! Come on! We'll all go!" And Kris led the way, as they turned in their trays and headed out the door, headed for the Burger King.

Once there, Aidoann was confronted by the bewildering menus. True, they had fast-food places back home, but the ones she was accustomed to weren't quite so…_hectic._ But, she guessed, it _was_ lunchtime.

And the menu items were subtly different.

Cal and Kris had both placed their order, and the clerk behind the desk had asked her what she wanted. Hm. What to get?

Kris noticed her eyes lingering on one of the menu items, one of the "limited time specials." "Uh, Aidoann? If I were you, I might not get that particular item. At least not unless you're used to very spicy foods."

Aidoann looked at the shorter girl next to her. That had sounded suspiciously like a challenge. "Why do you say that?"

"See that word, '_habernero_'? That's a very hot kind of pepper. They put slices of that on your burger for you. Of course, you can ask 'em to just hold those, not put 'em on. Everything else'd be the same."

Aidoann's face took on a resolute look. "As it happens, I _love_ spicy foods. Yes!" she said to the clerk behind the counter, "give me one of those! With _extra_ peppers!"

Kris and Cal exchanged glances.

Once they had their orders, and were seated, Kris began asking Aidoann about her home country. "So. Aidoann. Ever seen the Loch Ness monster?"

"No." Why did every fool American assume every Scots person had seen the Loch Ness creature? Had all Americans seen Bigfoot? She took a huge bite out of her burger…

…and almost stopped breathing when the pain _exploded_ in her mouth. She stopped chewing, choked slightly, putting a hand to her mouth.

"Here." The boy, Cal, was handing her something in a small container. Some sort of liquid. She didn't even stop to think what it was; she just grabbed it and drank the contents down as if her life depended on it.

It was milk. Almost immediately, the fire in her mouth subsided, and she drew in a long, sucking breath. Her vision was still watery from the reaction, and she had to blink several times. Kris handed her some napkins, and she blew her nose. _A fine spectacle I make,_ she thought to herself savagely, _eyes watering, nose running, almost can't breathe…I must look like….I don't know what. I'll figure that out later._

Finally, she got herself under control, her eyes cleared up, and she was able to stop blowing her nose. "I, I…tha'…caught me…a little off guarrd." Now would come the time when they'd laugh at the stupid foreign girl, who thought she could handle this simple American dish. Well, she guessed she deserved it.

"It's alright, Aidoann," said Kris. "The first time I tried one of those things, I coughed and spat the pepper all the way across the table, right into Cal's shirt pocket. You kinda haveta work up to them. Believe me, you aren't the first person in here I've seen with that kind of reaction."

"I…I'm not?"

"'Course not. Some people don't even like spicy food, or at least food that spicy. That's why they offer you the option of the burger without the peppers."

"I feel like a fool."

"Well, you aren't. Here, you got some cheese on your blouse…" Kris moistened a napkin, reached over and dabbed at the splotch on her sleeve.

_So much like my mother,_ thought Aidoann, with a pang of homesickness. "Ah, thank you, but I believe I can get that. But I suppose I will, er, eat this without the peppers…at least for now." And she began to pick out the hot peppers out of her burger. _But soon I will eat these things by the spoonful. No-one and nothing makes a fool of me!_

Cal was looking at his watch. "Well, we need to kinda snap it up. Next class is Mr. Brubaker, and you know how he is on punctuality."

"Noo. How is he?"

…

Later, back at her small apartment, Aidoann reflected on her day so far. It hadn't, she guessed, been a total disaster. Almost, but not total.

She hadn't found out any more about the _Omnis Oculis,_ and she didn't even have any good leads. But it was a bit soon for real results, anyway.

And…she guessed she'd made some…friends, sort of. This 'Cal' and 'Kris' seemed like a nice couple. They hadn't laughed at her at the restaurant today, and had even seemed a bit sympathetic, though she could feel her temper rising a bit at the notion of anyone feeling _sorry_ for her. She didn't want their sympathy; she'd just made a mistake, that was all. And they had, after all, tried to warn her. But her temper, for which she was justifiably famous back home, had arisen, so that she _just had_ to try that awful pepper sandwich. Her mother had warned her about letting her temper get the better of her like that.

Thinking of her mother, Aidoann sighed. Putting her books down by the desk, she got out her cell phone. Her mum would be expecting her to call. Even if she didn't have anything to report, still, her mother wanted her little girl to report in regularly. Mum hadn't been too thrilled about her going to the States in the first place, seeing it as a wild and wooly place, with muggers, murderers, rapists, and, for all anyone knew, abducting space aliens lurking around every corner. After all, that was on practically every TV show out of America. And everyone knew law enforcement in the United States was a joke.

Sighing again, she pulled up her mum's number, and, settling down on the couch, placed the call.

_To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10: Business as Usual

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 10: Business as Usual

….

_Dear readers: please, please check out Thomas Perkins' "Kid Kthulhu" retro comic covers on Deviantart. You don't know what you're missing!_

…

"Ewww." Cal was sitting at the dining room table, looking over an enormous old book Brother Elder had loaned him. The old book was huge, and positively reeked of age.

"What's 'ewww'?" asked Kris, just then coming back from putting the dishes in the dishwasher. "Say, before I start the dishwasher, you want some dessert?"

"No thanks. And what's 'ewww' is this entry about the Pharoah Nephren-Ka. Apparently, he wasn't the kind of guy you'd wanna meet in a dark alley. Or even a well-lit one."

"So how bad could he be?" Kris had dished out a small bowl of ice cream for herself.

"So bad that when he died, or was assassinated, more than likely, they erased every mention of him from all the stele, the pyramids, archives, everything. Made it like he never existed. And these were his _friends,_ mind you."

Kris paused, tasting the chocolate ice cream. Chocolate was, after all, a food group (or at least, it ought to be, she thought); good thing it came in ice cream. "Yeah, that's…a little extreme. So what'd he do? On second thought, don't tell me while I'm eating."

"Good idea. I kinda wish I'd read this on an empty stomach."

There was a pause. Then Kris spoke up again. "So. What are we gonna do about Miss Hot and Naked?"

Now he looked up. "Who, Aidoann? I don't know what we can do. Brother Elder's trying to figure out who she works for, but he says he's positive there's no organization like the People out there, centered around Hastur. And she may not even have anything to do with Hastur…but I don't really believe that. Her looking for the Shining Trapezohedron, same as us, is just too coincidental. But I don't know what, really, to do about her."

"Do you suppose she's after the Trapezohedron for the same reason we are?"

"Well, probably. The spycam thing, that'd be useful." He sighed and closed the book. It really wasn't doing his appetite any good to read it, anyway. He hadn't been aware of all the perversions supposedly ordinary human beings could come up with, anyway. Of course, some of them had been anything but ordinary, and many hadn't been human. "But Brother Elder seems to think the biggest advantage is the ability to contact this King in Yellow. I don't know why they don't just say, 'the yellow king,' but nobody does. Anyway, from what I gather, he's a Power to be reckoned with, all by himself. Even the Outer Gods are said to respect him, even if he isn't exactly in their weight class."

"Coming from beings that can blow up a whole star system, I guess that's saying something. So, he could, like…send help? Or something?"

"Well, he _could,_ but whether or not he _would,_ that's debatable. From what I've been told, it's worse than the United Nations out there. And there's a lot of other Powers that aren't even mildly sympathetic to our cause here on Earth. We're a backwater planet.

"But about contacting him... If the Elder Things are upsetting the balance here, then, in theory, at least, we could call for support, without disturbing the balance." He paused. "Though I have to tell you, Kris…I have my misgivings about just handing that kind of power over to somebody like Brother Elder."

More bites of ice cream and a nod. "I was jus' thinkin' the same thing. But…Cal, it seems like you've already chosen sides here. No point in looking back."

A shake of the head. "There was never a side to choose, at least, I don't know of one, Kris. I don't know who Aidoann is working for, but, when all this hit the fan, the only game in town was either the People, or the Silent Eternal Ones." Another shrug. "I couldn't very well side with them."

For a long, long moment, Kris was silent, looking down at her half finished bowl of ice cream. "No. I guess not," she said.

….

"No, mum, I tell you, I'm _fine._" This was about the tenth time Aidoann had had to reassure her mother that her very first mission for the Family hadn't resulted in her daughter being ravished by some deep-sea monster. "Maybe I woke up too soon, but…no, actually I doon't really believe that. And this was nae' a typical Deep One, either…he—I guess it was a 'he,' I rather got that impression—didna' really look like one. Both more and less human." She shrugged, even though her mother couldn't see the gesture over the phone. "Maybe he was so far removed from humanity that, that, you know…but really, I'm alright. But I didna' get the _Omnis Oculis_ either. I'm sorry. What? No, of course not. The building burned to the ground; there was nothing to search through. And I couldna' very well just hang _arroond_ there, anyway, not wi' the police and firemen... No. Is there any word of any other Family who might hae' been responsible for this? Any other agency, I mean? Ah, _rot_. Has the Oracle…? No? So we've no leads at all to go on?" She had been walking around in her apartment, doing small things while holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear. Now she sat down on the couch, blowing an unruly strand of her hair out of her face. "Well, perhaps there's no reason for me to remain here any longer. I do miss all of you, and home, so much. Though I have made a couple of friends here, a boy and a girl. No, they seem perfectly nice. Mot_her_!" She sat bolt upright. "What a thing to say! _Of course_ they have nae' tried to get me into a threesome! Why, I would nae' even do a _twosome,_ let alone…oh. Yes. Very funny. Ha ha. Remind me to laugh someday." Aidoann grimaced, alone there in her apartment. Sometimes, her mother's sense of humor could be a little heavy-handed. And sometimes she wasn't sure if her mother was one hundred percent joking or not. There had been a couple of occasions, back in Dumbarton, where her mum had actually seemed to practically _propel _her daughter in the general direction of some young man. But, no, surely that was just her imagination. Surely. "No, they just seem like two perfectly ordinary, nice people. Oh, I doon't know about them being you know, a couple or anything, I mean, they probably are, you know how it is here, that sort of thing doesn't rreally seem to matter, and they do seem to do everything together. And of course, she's always over at his house, a rather nice house, at that, so I imagine they're…what? Oh. Uh, well, I, erm, happened to drive by his address… Well, I had to make sure where he lived. She's always there. So, yes, they're probably…now, Mum, doon't get started on _tha'_ again. I'm not here for any of that, anyway. And besides. He's, what's the expression? Spoken for? Something like that. It'd be impolite. Anyway, he's not really my type anyhow. What?" Aidoann blushed. "Well, _okay,_ so he's cute. Happy? Now might we _please_ change the subject?"

…

Cal got ready for bed that night. It had been a long day. He was showering in the bathroom to his bedroom, with Kris downstairs, cleaning up from dinner. She'd decided to stay over, and go over the old copy of the _Necronomicon_ that Brother Elder had lent him herself. It was an imperfect copy, an English translation from a Dr. John Dee, from way back in the days of Queen Elizabeth the First. It wasn't complete, but perhaps it could furnish some information, and, as of right now, it was all either of them had. Brother Elder had mentioned that he had copies, in Latin, that were complete, but Cal didn't know that much Latin. Neither did Kris.

Thinking of her, he smiled, there, relaxing in the warm water stream. He was glad she was staying over. Not only did he enjoy her company, but…ever since Brother Elder had told him about the Silent Eternal Ones' brain-switching techniques, he…worried about her. The notion of his best friend being cored like an apple, turned into a "sleeper" agent for a colony of monsters…was _incredibly _upsetting.

Something shuddered. His eyes snapped open, looking around in alarm. Was this an earthquake? But no, the lights hadn't blinked, he hadn't actually felt any vibration that normally accompanied the shifting earth…just what had he felt, anyway?

Something…something didn't seem exactly right, somehow. For the barest of seconds, he looked at the water cascading over his hands…why should that seem so _strange_ to him?

Hurriedly, he donned his sleep pants and robe and raced downstairs. Kris was sitting at the dining room table, already in her pajamas, reading steadily from the old Dee copy. "Kris! Did you feel anything?"

She looked up, surprised. "No. Should I have?" Then she noticed how upset he was. "Cal? What's wrong?"

"I, I don't know. I was upstairs, showering, and, and it felt like…a shudder, like, you know, a small earthquake. But, but…it wasn't. I mean…" He ran his hand through his hair, distractedly.

She got up and came over to him. "Cal, c'mon. It was probably just a truck going by out front or something. I didn't feel anything, but I was preoccupied, so that means nothing." She looked at him carefully. He seemed way too freaked out for any normal event. "Cal?"

"I'm sorry, Kris. I know what I must look like, running down here like this, but…it just seemed like…I don't know how to describe it. Something just _happened,_ an' I don't know what."

She led him over to the couch. Sat him down and sat down beside him. He was really upset. Whatever could be wrong? "What do you think it was?"

"I've no idea."

"Think we need to call Brother Elder in on this?"

"On what? It's probably just my imagination, Kris." He barked a nervous laugh. "Only I sure must have one helluva vivid imagination."

She was silent for a minute. Then, "Well, as you say, it was probably just your imagination." She yawned. "You know, I _am_ kinda tired. I was gonna try to read some more in that book, but…I'm just not feelin' it right now. Whaddaya say we turn in?"

She followed him upstairs, carrying the Dee copy under one arm. Her small stature made the book look all the more enormous by comparison. As he got ready for bed, she sat in the easy chair in his room, legs drawn up underneath her, and skimmed over some things. "Wow. It's like you said: some'a these old dudes were definitely Not Nice People. At all."

"Yeah," he said, from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth, "and keep in mind, this is an _incomplete_ copy, at that. Who knows what's in the complete versions?" He came out of the bathroom, in his sleep pants, throwing his robe over the foot of the bed. "Kris? How do you suppose people—if they were people, which I doubt—ever got so messed up in the first place?"

She was shaking her head. "No idea, Cal. At least, with the monsters, they have the excuse of being monsters. But humans who act like this? Cal, I honestly think that sometimes we out-monster the monsters."

"Really." Still she sat there, in the recliner, legs curled up under her, the enormous book open in her arms. He went over and sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to swing his feet under the covers. "Kris?"

"Hm?"

"Aren't you going to bed? I thought you were all tired out."

"Oh. Oh, yes. Yeah, I guess I…will." She hesitated (why was she doing that? Again, he felt like he was getting some kind of mixed signal or something), then put the Dee copy on the nightstand. "I'll, I'll get it tomorrow." She got up and made her way to the door. Rather slowly, it seemed it seemed to him. Was she _that_ tired?

"Kris?"

"Hm?" Yawn.

"Uh, you _do_ know you don't _have_ to go all the way down to the guest room, right? I mean, if you're that tired…" He gestured towards the expanse of bed he wasn't currently occupying. "Wouldn't be the first time."

She smiled, and blushed just a little. That was strange; in all the years he'd known her, he'd never seen Kris actually _blush._ She looked kinda cute when she did that. "Thanks, Cal, but I'll be okay." And she drifted out the door. He shrugged and lay back in bed.

He had to admit, he was worried about her. All that talk Brother Elder had told him, about the Elder Things' brain-switching techniques, had become the stuff of his nightmares. The notion that Kris could be _taken away_ from him….

But this house was protected, and protected in ways far superior to any mortal security system. The magical wards that Brother Oberon's people had woven into and around it guaranteed that no Silent Eternal One, no minion of Yog-Sothoth, or other harmful entity, could get inside without getting fried first. This house was better protected than the Pentagon.

So he lay back, and composed himself for sleep. Part of him actually kind of wished Kris had taken him up on his offer; sleeping with her was…cozy. Yeah, that was the word. It was _cozy_ to sleep with her. He did his best to not think of her in that _other_ way, but that was becoming…increasingly hard to do…the cute way she'd blushed earlier, her slim form beneath the pajamas, her always tousled hair…and he remembered how she'd looked wearing one of his tee shirts. It had been short enough to show a very attractive length of leg.

He grimaced. Maybe he should do with a little less "cozy." For the sake of their relationship.

And so he allowed sleep to come over him.

The thoughts that go through one's mind when one is on the verge of sleep are often chaotic, making little sense, and make even less sense the closer one gets to full sleep. So one seldom remembers them. But the last thought he had, that he remembered, and that made any sense, was: _at least, as long as she's here, with me, in this house, she's safe._ That thought gave him enormous comfort.

And it was just as well that, at least in his current stage of evolution, Calvin Michaels had no telepathic powers. For if he had, Kris's verge-of-sleep thoughts might have given him pause, mystified him mightily. And that might've forestalled a lot of pain, much later on.

For downstairs, in the guest room, sleeping all by herself in the big queen bed, Kris's last coherent thoughts before sleep were: _No. No. No. You can't have him. You can't. You can't. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine, and I won't let you have him. I won't. I won't. I won't._

_To be continued…._


	11. Chapter 11: The Deserted Village

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 11: The Deserted Village

…..

_Everyone who reads this be sure to check out Thomas Perkins' Deviantart concepts of "Kid Kthulhu" retro comics covers. Now there's talent!_

…_.._

The Catskill Mountain Range: their borrowed Humvee easily negotiated the rough off-the-road terrain. "So what are we looking for, again?" Kris asked.

"There was an old mansion—'s not there now, they blew it up—but, look," he stopped the car and pointed out the window. "See those ridges? They kinda look like giant molehills? That's 'cause that's exactly what they are. Only they're not _mole_hills." He filled her in on the degenerate Martense family, who'd deteriorated into savage ape-like cannibals, living underground.

Her eyes widened. She'd had some knowledge of this beforehand, but the details…"Okay. Aaand…we're looking for these goomers _because?"_

"Intel says they have something. Apparently, Jan Martense, the one who got murdered, brought something back from some war. Brother Elder doesn't think it's the Trapezohedron or anything, but it could be something important, maybe some documents or records to something important. There _are _other objects of Power besides the Shining Trapezohedron, after all. And these things do live underground; it's conceivable that they may have something to do with the Silent Eternal Ones. Those guys seem fond of genetic experimentation, anyway." Shrug. "Maybe that explains how the Martenses became what they are. Anyway, he wants me to see if I can find something."

"How? Anything they have would be…well, it could be anywhere. And it would probably be underground, wouldn't it? I mean, I could see if it was in, like, some town or something above ground, we could kinda hunt for it, but it could be _anywhere_…we can't dig up the entire county!"

"They've almost got to have certain places where they concentrate more than others. Remember, they've devolved to an animal state, pretty much. So if they _have_ kept anything important like that, it stands to reason they'd probably stash it somewhere close to someplace with some, I dunno, ceremonial importance to them. So if we can locate those areas of greatest ceremonial importance…"

"I see. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, only underground."

"Something like that, yeah. Of course, if they just shift it from tunnel to tunnel, there's no really practical way of finding it…" He trailed off, obviously thinking. "Well, anyway, cross that bridge when, you know. But we _do_ have a place to start. There's a remnant of a village a couple of miles from Leffert's Corners that's supposed to be deserted." He started the Humvee, put it into gear. "Shouldn't be that far away. You got that charm?" Brother Oberon had given her a charm with the Elder Sign on it for her to wear around her neck. It wasn't total protection, but it would ward off the magic of the Silent Eternal Ones.

But not their science. Once again, Cal wished she'd go in for that process Brother Elder had mentioned. He didn't want her to die, of course, but what Brother Elder had told him about sounded worse than death.

"Yeah, right here." She fished it out from around her neck, the odd leaf-like sign glowing softly in the gathering darkness.

Soon, the headlights revealed a random scattering of huts in varying degrees of disrepair. Only a couple looked to be actually livable, if by "livable," one meant "could shield one from a light rain." The others…

"Wow. I didn't think such places existed, Cal." Kris's voice was hushed. The silent huts around her were like something one might see in videos of particularly poor third-world countries, only there didn't seem to be anyone living in them.

They got out of the vehicle, Cal already in his "Kid Kthulhu" guise, Kris dressed warmly in a heavy shirt and cargo pants. She wore a navy jacket over it all, one with lots of pockets. Now she went around to the back of the vehicle, and rummaged around in the back of the Humvee for a moment. "Kris?"

"Just a sec." She came around front, carrying a short-barreled pump-action riot shotgun, with a Glock automatic pistol stuck in a form-molded holster on her belt. He could see several filled magazines bulging in her pockets, and other bulges in her jacket he guessed were spare shotgun shells.

"Good Lord, Kris. What's all that for?"

"Oh, come on, Cal. I don't intend for those Elder Things or anything else to get the drop on me _or_ you. I might not have super powers, but I _can_ shoot. And they're not bulletproof." She adjusted an LED flashlight affixed to an elastic band around her head. "Let's go see what we can see."

"Uh, Kris? If Aidoann shows up, please don't shoot her. I don't-*"

"Ah, relax, ya big baby. I'm not gonna shoot'cher girlfriend. I'll let you handle her. Uh, you don't haveta take that literally, you know."

"She is so not my girlfriend!"

"Shhuuuuuure, she's not." Grin. "Come on, loverboy, it's getting late." She racked the slide, then loaded an extra round into the extended tubular magazine, topping it off. Took him by the arm. "Come on."

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

The first hut proved to be disappointingly bare. Cal looked up; even without his special senses, he could see right through the rickety roof. There were large gaps in between the boards; he didn't see how it had ever been rainproof. There was no furniture, just some empty boxes and packing crates. Had people once actually lived here? Here, in America?

The next hut was a bit more sturdy, and the roof actually appeared to be functional. Maybe this had been a town hall or something. Or the abode of the village chieftain. Or both. But it, too, seemed empty…

"Cal, look." Kris was pointing to one corner on the opposite side away from the door. There was what looked like a freshly-dug hole there, leading underground. He rubbed some of the dirt between his pulpy fingers. "This hasn't been here long." He stood up. "Okay, I'm goin' down. You stay up here and-*"

She put a hand on his arm. "Are you crazy? Haven't you watched enough slasher movies to know that's always how the monster gets you? So come on now. Or do you want me to go first?"

He sighed. Short of tying her to a tree, he didn't see any way of keeping her here. And, he guessed, she had a point. They didn't need to get separated. "Okay. Just follow me."

"Just a sec." She pulled something else out of the pocket of her jacket, and replaced her headlight with some binocular-type goggles. "Night vision," she said, to his questioning look.

"You've been reading too many 'Punisher' comics."

"Maybe you should read more of 'em."

He made himself tubular-thin, and slipped down into the hole, landing on his feet, already looking around for any sign of the degenerate things the Martense family had become. Nothing.

He heard Kris grunting overhead, and felt a trickle of earth as she scraped her way down the hole, landing beside him, shotgun at the ready. He could sorta agree with her philosophy regarding the guns; there was nothing to be gained by going easy on the things in this underground complex. They might've been human once, but they were man-eating monsters now.

His unique vision showed him a tunnel stretching off towards the southeast, according to his compass. Brother Elder had told him he really didn't need it; all he had to do was orient himself with the larger water masses that he could sense directly in this form, and use that like an inbuilt GPS. Well, maybe later on, he'd be comfortable doing that.

They had to get down on their hands and knees for some parts of the tunnel. Evidently, the Martense creatures either weren't very big or were used to tight, cramped spaces.

After crawling for what seemed like an hour, he paused, held up his hand. "Sh."

"What?" she whispered.

"I…sense something. Up ahead."

"'Sense something'? You mean you can hear, or see it?" Kris knew about his ability to see in what would be total blackness to anyone else.

"No…I can't explain it, but there's something up ahead." He moved cautiously forward, stopping every few feet, moving his head from side to side like a Geiger counter, evidently trying to triangulate on whatever it was he'd sensed. "It's just up ahead."

The pair crawled carefully along the low tunnel, every sense alert. Finally, he stopped again, turning to her, placing his fingers over his face where his lips would be in human form. "_Sh_."

Now they could hear a low chanting that seemed to emanate from the darkness up ahead. Peering cautiously over the lip of the tunnel's edge, they could make out a larger cavern-like area, with dozens of the degenerate beast-men gathered there, bowing and genuflecting before a central object.

The "central object" in question was a Silent Eternal One.

The creature rose, seemingly growing out of the floor of the cavern, towering a good twelve feet into the air. Its upper tentacles waved gently back and forth, almost like the leaves on a tree would in a gentle wind. The creature seemed to sway, slightly, in time with the chanting coming from the apelike hordes before it.

One of the ape creatures stood up, and, moving stiffly, as though accustomed to traveling on all fours, approached the alien before it. It was carrying something in its grip, something like a large box.

_Whatever that is,_ thought Cal, _I bet that's what we're here for._ Of course, it could be something totally useless, some trinket sacred to the beast men, but meaning nothing to the People or their war…but then why offer it to the Silent Eternal One?

Kris placed a hand on his arm, and he turned to look at her. Her face was pale and her features drawn. He remembered that she'd never seen a Silent Eternal One before. Just looking at one of the things made one feel a little queasy. And throw in the devolved creatures in the cavern….

_What do we do?_ She mouthed. _What's the plan?_

_Hold on, and be ready to move,_ he mouthed back, pulling something out of his pocket. It was small and glittered in the dim light of the cavern.

The beast man approached the Silent Eternal One, proffering the box in its hands. The creature towering above it seemed to halt its swaying momentarily, as though examining the box….

…and Cal tossed the small glittering object all the way across the cavern, where it came to rest against a rock.

The other beast men stopped and looked at this unexpected sound, with some of them looking around to see where it came from. Most looked up; it made sense that unexpected noises most probably resulted from rocks falling from the roof of the cave.

But the leader zeroed in on the small, glittering spheroid Cal had thrown. Forgetting about the box in its hands, it shambled over to the shiny object, and bent down to sniff of it…

…only to have the capsaicin charge it contained go off right in its face. Coughing and sputtering, it reeled back…

The noxious, stinging cloud spread rapidly throughout the cavern, and soon the entire group of degenerate creatures were sputtering and coughing, their eyes watering at the powerful chemical irritant. The leader dropped the box it was holding…

And Cal exploded from the tunnel entranceway where he and Kris had been hiding, racing across the cavernous room, deftly dodging the creatures, making straight for the box.

He barely slowed down long enough to grab it before he reversed course, bounding back towards Kris. "Go, go!" No point in stealth now; they surely knew he was here….

…And saw Kris pointing her shotgun straight at his head. _"Duck, Cal!"_ And he tucked and rolled in a way no human could, and was rewarded with a backward and upside-down view of the beast man leader catching a face full of buckshot. The blood spattered on his clothes, some stinging droplets hitting him in the face.

The creatures milled around, some of them attacking each other, but others queuing up to the Silent Eternal One, as though seeking instructions. They must have received them, because just as Cal scrambled up into the tunnel along with Kris, several of them started after the duo.

"Come on!" As fast as they could, they scrambled back towards the freshly dug hole they'd entered. Cal insisted on Kris going up first; there was no ladder or rope, and he could just stretch up to the top of the hole.

Plus, the further away she was from danger, the better he felt.

He scrambled out of the hole. But, even topside, he could hear the sounds of inhuman pursuit. "Here!" He handed Kris the box, and produced a grenade from another pocket. Pulled the pin and dropped it down the hole.

They made halfway to the Humvee just as the grenade went off, demolishing the hut, and sealing the entranceway to the creatures' tunnel. Cal switched back to human form for ease of driving, and they hurried and got in. He'd just started the engine, and was preparing to tear out of there when a pair of abnormally strong, apelike arms wrapped around his neck from behind. _"CAL!"_ yelled Kris, even as she yanked the Glock out of her waistband, firing at point-blank range straight into the disgusting thing that had her friend in an armlock, the sound of the gunshots deafening in the enclosed space. It groaned and fell back, the impact of the 115-grain high-velocity hollowpoints tearing into it.

The Humvee swerved as Cal fought for control. Kris managed to kick the dying creature out a door. "Floor it, Cal!"

Back at Leffert's Corners: Cal had switched out of his uniform, and the two stopped to get gas before heading back. "Thanks, Kris," he said. "I didn't know you could shoot like that."

"Sure I can. Before he got assigned overseas, Dad taught me how to shoot. He told me it'd come in handy someday." She quirked a smile. "Though I'm fairly sure _this_ wasn't exactly what he had in mind." Her smile got broader. "But you definitely owe me, boy friend. And it's not the first time I've saved your bacon. Or…"and here, she started to snort, "in…in your c-case, your calamari!" She couldn't contain herself anymore, and began whooping with laughter.

"Oh, very funny, ha ha. Pick on the octopus guy, why don't'cha? Hey, at least _I _can open a jam jar with one tentacle…"

And so on through the darkness they drove, back to Innsmouth.

_To be continued…._


	12. Chapter 12: A New Ally?

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 12: A New Ally?

…..

_Kid Kthulhu is inspired by Thomas Perkins' superb retro comics covers found on Deviantart. Just look up "Kid Kthulhu" on that site. You won't regret it!_

…

A New Ally?

"A mission well accomplished, Mr. Michaels," said Brother Elder. "And furthermore, you refrained from exercising your natural curiosity and opening the box. That's commendable for several reasons. The box could easily have been rigged to contain a booby-trap. We'll let Brother Oberon's people open it; they can take safeguards against such things.

"And it could just be some ridiculous item, perhaps even a human body part, though I doubt that. Whatever it is, it seems to be of interest to the Spawn of Ygdrll, and therefore, it is of interest to us.

"And Ms. Simone. I must take this opportunity to…express my appreciation to you. You and Mr. Michaels functioned superbly, as a team. That's very commendable."

"I think the correct response to that is, 'you're welcome.' But it's like I told you: I'm here for Cal."

"Indeed you did." Brother Elder paused, looking at her as though seeing her for the first time. What was he thinking? "Mr. Michaels could have done much worse, in choosing friends." Cal and Kris exchanged semi-shocked glances. That was the closest thing to a compliment Brother Elder had ever paid her.

A technician came in with a sheaf of papers which he laid on Brother Elder's desk. The latter glanced at them, not reading every word, but pulling the gist out of the report. "Hm. Yes. Very interesting. Yes, very interesting, indeed."

"Sir?" In all the time Cal had been sitting there, he hadn't had the opportunity to actually speak, aside from making his report.

"Hm." Brother Elder looked thoughtful. "It seems there was a memory crystal in the box. The decoding process was ridiculously easy, and it contained quite a bit of information, which we'll have to verify. No, it didn't reveal the whereabouts of the Shining Trapedzohedron, but does indicate the location of one of the finest tactical minds on Earth. We need to recruit him. In fact, I think that will be your next mission." He looked mischievously from one to the other. "So. Are the two of you up for a trip to San Francisco?"

Kris and Cal looked at each other, jaws agape. _San Fran?_

…..

San Francisco International Airport: Cal and Kris's flight had been uneventful, with only one change-over. Disembarking, they made their way to the luggage checkpoint. They'd traveled light; less luggage meant less luggage to lose, and anyway, they weren't going to be here long. At least, they hoped not.

Cal couldn't help but feel a touch of nervousness. Arkham was a staid, almost old-fashioned community, in spite of the presence of the college there; he wasn't sure how to react to the worldly, no-holds-barred life he'd heard was the norm here. Of course, he was sure a lot of that was hyperbole, but still.

"You got our confirmation number?" Kris was hauling the bags off the conveyer belt.

"Yeah, right here." He was already dialing for a local taxi; although there was a shuttle running from the airport, they'd decided not to wait for it.

As before, they'd booked only one room, but Cal had made certain it was a room with two queen sized beds. As they checked in, the clerk told them about the hotel rules and regulations. "And…just sign here, and you're set, Mr. Simmons." Brother Elder had provided them with cover IDs and background story: they were brother and sister, here to do a college research paper on certain archeological artifacts at the local museum. If the clerk thought they made an odd-looking duo to be siblings, he never let it show in his face or voice.

The room proved to be spotless and roomier than expected. Kris immediately set up her laptop, connecting to the hotel's Wi-Fi and looking up their target's information. "We may have a hard time finding this guy," remarked Cal. The info on the crystal simply called him "The Fantastic Battle Brain." _I seriously doubt that how he's listed._ "Did you get a personal name?" Brother Elder hadn't mentioned one.

"Nope. But I doubt we'll have any problem finding him."

"Why so? You don't have an address, do you?"

She swiveled the laptop to face him. "Take a look."

His eyes ran down the listing:

_F &amp; S Plumbing_

_Fanny's Vegan Cuisine &amp; Catering_

_Fantastic Battle Brain_

There was an address and a telephone number beside this last one.

Cal and Kris looked at each other. "Well," shrugged Kris, finally, "at least he won't be hard to find."

The next day brought a torrential downpour with it. It rained so hard visibility was restricted to only a few yards.

They were totally dependent upon the driver of the taxi they'd called for. "Langley Street, Langley Street," muttered Cal as the cab inched its way through the traffic, which, in spite of the downpour, was still bumper to bumper.

"So what are we gonna tell this guy, anyway?" Kris asked, keeping her voice down. It was doubtful the driver could hear them over the liquid roar of the rain on the roof of the cab, but better safe than sorry.

"I've got a…proposal, I guess you'd call it, ready." Brother Elder had given him the documentation he'd need to back up his claims, plus put more on a flash drive. "We basically lay our cards on the table. Open. Honest. If we tried to deceive him, trick him into working for us, he'd find out, and that'd be the end of that. So…full disclosure."

"What if he doesn't go for it?"

Cal shrugged. "Then he doesn't. I mean, worse case scenario? He spreads the word that there's this crazy cult dedicated to raising a Great Old One, and, oh, yes, in the process, save the world from some aliens who want to destroy it." Another shrug. "I guess he could sell it to something like _The National Enquirer_ or something, but it's doubtful anybody would take such ramblings seriously."

"Cal? Something I've wondered: Brother Elder wants to, ultimately, at least, raise up Cthulhu, right? And have Cthulhu basically rule the world, right? So what about all the humans? What happens to us?"

"Funny you should ask. It seems that, in a strange sense of the word, we're all Deep Ones, actually."

A raised eyebrow. "We are?"

"Yeah. All life came from the sea, and it doesn't take much for it to return to the sea. The People. They're hybrids, Deep Ones who mated with humans. As they get older, they become more and more like the Deep Ones, and, yes, they change in appearance, but some don't change all that much. It's kinda like this: we can all become mer-people, sort of, with the right stimulation. And here's the good thing about that: the Deep Ones are immortal. They don't die. Oh, they can be killed, but they don't grow old and die like we do now.

"So actually, what the People want to do is, bring immortality to the whole human race." He grinned at her. "Wouldn't you like to be immortal, Kris?"

"That depends." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "An immortal _what?_ I'd wanna read the fine print before I signed up for that…"

"Here we are, sir," said the driver, "Westhaven Apartments. Shall I wait, or will you call?"

"We'll call. C'mon, Kris."

They got out of the car, Kris unfolding an umbrella over her head. It was more for show than necessity; Cal's power saw to it that not a drop touched them.

The lobby of the apartment complex appeared to be deserted. There was a bank of intercoms over by one wall, and it was to this wall Cal and Kris made their way.

"Okay…let's see. Fantastic Battle Brain, suite 3117. Here we go." He touched the intercom. "Hello! Mr. uh, Brain? This is Calvin Michaels. We spoke yesterday on the phone. Can we come up?"

There was a brief moment, then the intercom clicked on. _"Certainly. Just use the central elevator, and take a right when you get off on the third floor."_

"What, exactly, are we gonna say to this guy, once again?" asked Kris, on the way up. "I wanna make sure we're on the same page."

"Well, first, we have to explain to him the overall situation, the Great Old Ones, the Outer Gods, and the Silent Eternal Ones." He sighed. "Assuming he hasn't already either called the cops to report some escapees from a mental institution, then we get down to basics. This guy is supposed to be a great tactician. Brother Elder has given me _carte blanche_ to offer him pretty much anything it takes to get him on our side."

Third floor, take a right. A short walk down the hallway. "But how are we gonna make him _believe_ us?"

"_That_ part, he wasn't too clear on. I mean, I've got these documents, historical records, all this evidence on these flash drives…but all that _could_ be faked. So I guess it comes down to how convincing _I_ can be. Which," he squared his shoulders, "Should be pretty convincing, if I should have to change into my other form. But that's last-resort stuff; after all, it might scare him off."

The door: there was a single doorbell button. "Come in," said a voice from inside, after Cal had pressed it, "It's open."

Their first impression was of both order and chaos: the room thus revealed was lined with bookshelves, which in turn were stacked with books. There was a comfortable looking couch along the same wall as the door; the coffee table in front of it was festooned with magazines, mostly involving online gaming. There were several high-end laptops sitting on it, running, displaying scenes from _Call of Duty _and what looked to Cal like _Star Trek Online._ The room was centered, however, around a desk over by one wall, with a server-grade desktop running. Cal recognized the game thus displayed as an online version of _Warhammer 40K._ He'd tried his hand at it a few times, usually with results that could most charitably be described as "unsatisfactory."

And seated at that desk was perhaps the most amazing individual Cal or Kris had yet seen.

He got up to approach them, and they noticed that he was moderately tall, about Cal's height. But what was so amazing about him was that his skin was a robin's egg blue in coloration, and the front of his forehead and top of his head appeared to be transparent, showing the pink brain beneath. His face was decorated with a thin moustache, and, right now, a bemused smile. He was wearing what looked like a tailor-made form-fitting jumpsuit in blue and white, rather reminiscent of the more recent _Star Trek_ uniforms.

The apparition approached them, extending a hand. "Mr. Michaels? I'm the Fantastic Battle Brain. At your service. At least," and here, the smile broadened just a little, "for the next few minutes, anyway."

….

Aidoann checked and rechecked her directions. Dunwich. This was the place, she thought. Here, according to the Oracle, was where some of the memory crystals for the Silent Eternal Ones would be stored, or should be stored. Her mother had stressed the importance of retrieving them intact; she'd have to watch herself, try not to use her own power too much, as that alone could damage the crystals. But of course, she might need to use her power, to defend herself. Just because Wilbur Whately and his monstrous twin had been defeated didn't mean there wouldn't be other…things to worry about.

She'd chosen not to bring a gun or any sort of obvious weaponry with her. As a non-US citizen, such things could cause more problems for her than they were worth, should they be found in her possession, and, anyway, she wasn't that comfortable with firearms, never having had much use for them. Knives, edged weapons, she knew more about, but still…better safe than sorry.

The town of Dunwich was in a lonely-looking valley many miles west of Arkham, quite a ways off the beaten path. The town itself didn't look very promising; mostly run-down shacks, a small village consisting of rickety-looking old wooden buildings, like something you'd see out of an American western. Except people really lived here.

Her mum had stressed the importance of an in-and-out type job. Speed was of the essence; don't give people—and other things—time to become alerted or to organize. The crystals, if their sources were accurate, if the Oracle had indeed gotten the correct information, were to be found at one particular old ruin of a house somewhere to the northwest of town. But she had to stop and ask directions, as her GPS was totally nonfunctional out this way.

The old people at the general store where she stopped looked up from what they were doing and stared in amazement at the five foot five, fiery red haired, blue-jeaned beauty. "Excuse me," she asked one, who was evidently the store owner, "but _perr_haps you can help me. I'm looking for the old Whately place. Which roads go out that way?" _Keep communication simple, Aidoann. Just get the job done and get back home._

"Wizard Whately's old place? Why'n tarnation would you be a-wantin' to go out there?"

"I'm doing research." Her cover story. "Now…dirrections?" She tried to keep her accent to a minimum. One thing she'd gathered about Americans: sometimes they had a tendency to mistrust and / or mislead foreigners, and these people seemed especially to fall into that category. By all reports, they mistrusted their own countrymen, who weren't from this area; they'd be almost certain to distrust her. And sometimes "distrust" had been known to have some violent side effects.

"Research. Yeah, I c'n see how you'd be interested in the old Whately place. You from Miskatonic?"

"Yes." She was growing impatient with these people. So far, she'd provided more information than they had. "Now…"

"Er, well, ma'am, you'd take the rud up 'air t'wards Col' Spring Glen, only there ain't no actual _rud_ out that way. You'd haveta stop at the bridge an' walk the rest o' the way." He looked at her. She noticed, with a mixture of irritation and amusement, that he seemed to have a hard time focusing on her face, rather than her chest. But at least, he seemed to be making the effort, unlike some she'd dealt with. "T'aint really a safe place ta be, atter dark. But I guess, long's you dun't actually go down into the Glen, you shud be okay."

"Why? What's in this Glen you speak of?"

He shuddered visibly, turning away. "Maybe nuthin'. But you couldn't pay me enough ta go there, even in the bright o' noon day."

_Superstitious locals,_ thought Aidoann, then remonstrated herself. These were the natives, after all; this was their home. Chances were, if there were places to avoid, they'd know about them, and it needn't be baseless superstition.

Aloud, "Well, I shan't be going there, then. But you say the Whately place is within walking distance of this _brr_idge of which you spoke?"

Shortly, she found herself at the covered bridge. The bridge had definitely seen better days; it sagged in the middle, and some of the timbers looked as though they wouldn't support much weight. Just as well to leave her car here, and walk the rest of the way.

The interior of the bridge was oddly cool, but there was a faint, malign odor to it she couldn't place. She knew the minions of Yog-Sothoth could occasionally be detected by scent…she hoped what she was smelling was a residual odor from a long time ago. She could hear the timbers creak slightly beneath her feet as she walked. All she had to do, she told herself, was search out the Whately farmhouse for whatever memory crystals might be found there. Or at least, had last been seen there. Memory crystals were the mystical equivalent to modern day thumb drives: mystics and sensitives could record their thoughts, impressions on them, which could then be read, later on, by other sensitives. She smiled as she walked; humans had, in a sense re-invented the wheel with flash drives. But no, not everybody could use a memory crystal.

The Whately farmhouse—what was left of it—leaned up against the side of a mountain. Most of it looked to be exploded from within, as though something had burst out of it. Well, she thought, something had: the horrible spawn of Yog-Sothoth he'd begotten on that poor woman back then. The wood timbers were stained and shattered; obviously, nobody had been up this way, even to scavenge lumber. That alone told her something of the place's fearsome reputation.

There were several small shacks, former tool sheds, that the monstrous Wilbur Whately had outfitted to be living quarters when he was growing his awful twin brother. She stepped into the first one…

….and reared back, choking, at the stench from within. Evidently, the ensuing years had done nothing to reduce the awful _odor_ that Yog-Sothoth's spawn seemed to produce.

If, indeed, they were truly gone to begin with. She shivered, looking over her shoulder, and, steeling her resolve, re-entered the shack.

Cautiously, she examined each shack as carefully as she could. She'd brought a high-intensity flashlight, and got down on her hands and knees, looking under corners. The Whately's hadn't really had any idea about security; their terrifying reputation generally ensured that no-one would venture close enough for it to be an issue. In several places, she noticed some sort of gooish residue that resembled tar, which she was careful not to get on her hands, not knowing what it was. There was also a huge amount of loose dust present, which made her sneeze a few times. Evidently, the Whately's idea of cleanliness was different than most people's, too. Of course, that was a long time ago.

But no crystals. Discouraged, she checked and rechecked the shacks, one by one. Nothing.

But she did make one discovery. In one of the shacks, on an upper shelf, just high up enough to be out of sight to most casual observers, was what appeared to be a woman's golden wedding band. She picked it up and turned it over and over in her hands. This was very much out of place here. As far as she knew, there had never been any women here at the Whately's. Oh, there had been Wilbur's mother, but she'd been killed long before Wilbur himself was grown, and, anyway, it didn't look like anything any of the Whately's would have worn. Plus, it wasn't wrapped up in cobwebs, giving it the impression of being fairly recent. Whose could it be?

Aidoann was strongly tempted to leave it where she'd found it—she might not know whose it was, but she definitely knew whose it _wasn't_—but hesitated. Perhaps the Oracle could glean some information from this ring, tell them something about the person it had belonged to. So she absently dropped the ring into a pocket and headed back out.

She approached the blasted timbers of the main house, all the while keeping her senses peeled for any sign of trouble. She knew They of the Air were almost always invisible, but she had a small jewel on a chain around her neck that should warn her of the approach of any such entities. And, she thought grimly, such entities were not immune to the Fire of Hastur.

What was left of the house was a complete wreck. Black sludge had caked on almost everything, and the wooden timbers themselves were in such poor shape that she didn't wonder that no-one had been up this way, seeking already-cut lumber.

She sighed. She'd need a bulldozer to go through all this wreckage, and anyway, she couldn't see any of the Whately's as leaving anything of value here in the ruined farmhouse. Maybe the barn…but that would be a hell of a place to leave sensitive material.

It might have been just a trick of the wind, but a short gust of air brought a sound to her attention, a sound that sounded, to her ears, like a cry for help. Immediately, she dropped into a combat stance, looking around. She had another set of clothes in her car, should she have to change suddenly…

There! It was coming from over there, just beyond the wooded area bordering what was probably considered the Whately's property, or had been, back in that day. She hurried over towards it, pushing through brush and undergrowth that tore at her hair and clothes….

….and came upon a largish clearing. A young boy was running across her field of vision, from her left to right, running for all he was worth, running as though his very life depended upon it.

Which, she thought to herself, it just might. But strain her eyes as much as she could, she couldn't see any sign of any pursuit. She checked her crystal. No sign of They of the Air.

His trajectory brought him close by the shrubbery from which she had emerged, and she reached out and grabbed his arm, his momentum almost spinning her around. "Wait! Stop! What is wrong? Why are you _rr_uning like that?"

"Let me go! And you'd best run, too, lady! _It's coming!"_

….  
"So," mused the blue-skinned man, "The Old Puritan…turns out he was right all this time. And nobody caught on. Interesting." His eyes drifted over the consoles in front of him. Cal noticed one monitor was tilted away from them. Their host occasionally glanced at it.

The Fantastic Battle Brain noticed their looks. "H. P. Lovecraft…a man out of his time, truly. A noted fantasist…except it seems he was more of a realist than a fantasist, in at least two uses of the word. He knew no one would believe him if he presented his knowledge as factual. No one, that is, except those who would take a deadly interest in his knowledge. Yes. Most…interesting. I wonder how he came by his information?"

"That we don't know, sir. But the People, the Deep Ones, Cthulhu, Yog-Sothoth, the Silent Eternal Ones, the Outer Gods….it's all real. And there really is a war going on. We'd like you on our side."

"I'm sure you would. I can definitely see how I could be of invaluable service to you. Now tell me why I should."

Cal drew a breath. Here it went. "Well, there's the matter of saving the world to start with. If the Silent Eternal Ones upset the balance of power, the Outer Gods will take matters into their own, er, hands. And as you've seen," he gestured to the flash drives he'd handed him, "they aren't exactly gentle."

"Admittedly. But why should I join _your_ side, young man? Why _Cthulhu?_"

"From what I gather, sir, Yog-Sothoth's ideal planet Earth is a barren rock. In that sense, he's no better than the Outer Gods…only perhaps a little more subtle about it. But the end result's the same. And the disciples of Yig seem to be trying to stay out of the matter as much as possible.

"The only one who actively seeks to _preserve_ life on Earth—in any form—is Cthulhu. He's about the only side you _can_ join. Nobody else is recruiting humans."

"And Cthulhu happens to be your father? That's interesting, too. Not meaning to get too personal, but that must have some effect on you, and not just biologically, either." He let the sentence trail off, raising a blue eyebrow at Cal.

Cal said nothing, but calmly met his gaze. It was a question he'd asked himself a few times, lately.

How _was_ it affecting him? To find out that his father, his true biological father, was not even a human being, but a star-spawned Elder God from a time predating the formation of life on Earth…a lot had happened to him in the past few months. It had been a whirlwind of new information, most of it decidedly unpleasant, and of his role in matters pertaining to the war he'd found himself in.

Where did his loyalties lie? And, more importantly, why? Then he happened to glance over at Kris, seated in the armchair by the wall, watching their conversation.

_That_ was where his loyalty lay.

The Brain watched him a moment longer. Cal realized he'd seen that glance, and understood it as surely as if he'd read Cal's mind, but Cal didn't care. His loyalty was to his friend, and he saw nothing about that to apologize for. People could talk about ideals, about life, about principles, standards, morals, and ethics, but at the end of the day, when it all came down to it, you stood by your friends.

"It has," he admitted, "had an effect."

There was silence for a moment longer, and Cal could almost swear the Fantastic Battle Brain was stalling, for some reason or another. Then, "One thing any tactician learns early on, is to get all the facts. And feelings and impressions can sometimes count for more than facts.

"You've no actual reason to side with Cthulhu, or the People. By your own admission—and I mean no offense by this—they took advantage of your mother at a delicate time in her life. They might've had good intentions, but we know what's paved with those.

"Yet you seem to have adopted their cause as your own. I'm wondering if there might be more to it than it appears."

"What do you mean?"

"By all accounts, Cthulhu has a certain mastery over dreams. And dreams…can have certain effects on us, even in the waking world. A recurring nightmare can make one afraid to fall asleep, for example.

"So is it completely beyond the bounds of belief that dreams can also _persuade_?"

"You're saying," said Cal, "that I've been dream-brainwashed."

"No. I'm _asking._ What do _you_ think?" He glanced at a monitor that was tilted away from them, then glanced back, looking at Cal.

"Excuse me?" Kris spoke up, the first time she'd done so after "hello." "May I point out something?"

"Certainly."

"Does it matter? I've known Cal my whole life, and I can't tell any difference in him now as before. Isn't brainwashing, by definition, the highjacking of one's mind and free will? But Cal _chose_ to do what he's doing. I was there; I saw it. Oh, I'll grant you, it's quite possible he's only been shown the _good_ side to the People's war—I've told him that, myself-, but, really, that's like anything. Isn't that the way these things go? Nobody's gonna show you the dark underbelly of their side of the story, not unless they have to. Right?"

The Brain narrowed his eyes at her. "Go on…"

"So. Fact: the Silent Eternal Ones would remove your brain and place it in a jar. Fact: the minions of Yog-Sothoth want to clean the entire Earth of all organic life. Fact: the followers of Yig ain't havin' any of it, one way or the other. And Fact: the Silent Eternal Ones are deliberately trying to upset the balance of power here on Earth, and bring about another holocaust.

"So who's left? Oh, yeah, also Fact: sooner or later the war comes home to wherever you live. Might not be today, might not be tomorrow. Might not be in your lifetime. But it's coming. So why not choose the side that's most likely to benefit you?"

The Fantastic Battle Brain looked at her for a moment longer. "A most logical chain of thought. My compliments." Another pause. "Now. If you two will be so kind as to gather in a bit closer, I'll give you my answer."

Kris and Cal looked at each other. Gather in closer? But they dutifully got up and moved to a couple of chairs closer to the Brain's desk.

"My answer to your offer is this." And here, he glanced at the monitor, and motioned them in a little closer. _"Get down and take cover!"_

And the three walls behind them vanished in a series of ear-mangling explosions…

_To be continued…_


	13. Chapter 13: The Fire of Hastur

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 13: The Fire of Hastur

_As always, I draw attention to Thomas Perkins' retro comics covers, "Kid Kthulhu," on Deviantart. Check them out!_

The Fire of Hastur

Aidoann didn't waste time thinking; she just grabbed the boy's hand and ran with him back the way she'd come. "Come on! My car's just beyond the bridge!" As she ran, she glanced at her pendent, the crystal on a chain around her neck, that was supposed to signal if They of the Air, Yog-Sothoth's minions, were anywhere about. But it remained unresponsive. So what could the boy have been running from?

As they ran, she risked a glimpse back. She still could see nothing out of the ordinary….wait. The tall grass back the way they'd come…a part of it, in a curiously jagged line, was turning brown and wilting, even as she watched. What could be causing that?

Aidoann thought she knew.

They reached the bridge, their feet thundering beneath them. It occurred to Aidoann that the old bridge might give way under such as assault, but she didn't slacken her pace one bit. Somehow, she _knew_ that whatever was coming was worse.

She hurriedly stuffed the boy into her car, ran around and got in. "What is yurr name, youngster?" She gunned the motor, heading back towards town.

"J-Jamie, ma'am. Jamie Roberts." The boy was still quite pale, and was beginning to shake from the reaction.

Jamie. A perfectly good Scots name. "Jamie, I'm Aidoann. What did you see back there, Jamie? What were we running from?"

Jamie was still almost in shock. "It—it came down the side of th' hill, right down from that hill where them Whatelys used t'have their unholy rituals." He turned to her, fear still in his face and voice. "It swallowed a cow, ma'am! A whole cow! I could hear the poor beast screaming! And, and…." The boy couldn't go on.

She reached over and put a comforting hand on his knee. "Sh. It's alright, Jamie. Look, I'll help, okay? But first, we have to get you back to town." The edge of town came into view. "Jamie, I need you to do something for me. Will you do that? Please?"

He sniffled, still trying to get control of himself. "I—I'll try."

"Alright." She pulled up to the general store where she'd asked directions from not so long ago. "I want you to go in there and tell people to get ready to leave town. Tell them what you saw, and tell them that it's comin', and that they need to leave by the southeast road. Okay? Can you do that? I'm going to try something, but what I'm about to do could also be verra' dangerous, so I need people t'leave this area. And if it doesna' work, they still need ta leave. Even more so. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. Dun't know how I c'n make 'em listen ta _me_ though." He turned to her, worry for her in his eyes. "What, what are you gonna do?"

"Something rather drastic." _I'll have to figure out just what as I go along._

After leaving Jamie at the store, she immediately turned towards the east of town, slowing down to find a small, dirt road concealed by trees. Getting out, she checked her pendent; still no sign of They of the Air. So if it wasn't them, what could it be?

She hastily skinned out of her jeans, and shucked her plaid shirt, making sure to remove the pendent—no point in burning it up—and had removed her panties (she wore no bra, for precisely this reason; besides, bras were stupid), when she heard a gasp from the closer edge of the woods. She gasped herself, turning to see who was watching her…

…A stunned looking Jamie was watching her from the edge of the trees. "M—m—Miss Aidoann? Why, why are you t-taking your clothes off?"

_Oh, dear,_ thought Aidoann, _I think I've gone and committed a felony this day: exposing myself to a minor._ She had no doubt the Family could get her out of jail, but it was still a hell of a thing for the Fire of Hastur, humanity's defense against the Old Ones, to be arrested for. Aloud, "Jamie, listen to me," she said, while trying to cover up as best she could, "I'm going to trry to do something, but I had to _rr_emove m' clothes first. Turn your head and I'll show you." He did so, and she spontaneously shifted into her alternate form. He switched his gaze back when he felt the heat and saw the light, his eyes widening even further. "I can do this. But I canna' do it wi' my clothes on, because they'll burrn up. See?" She glanced at the car; it was locked, and she knew the combination for getting back in. "But I still need you to go an' warn the others. I think I know what's out there, but I doon't know if I can stop it. So they have to move, and move now." He was still gazing up at her, almost rapturously, she thought. Why? "So now, go on back an' tell the others. If I'm successful, they can all move back in. If not, they need ta' leave anyway." She smiled at him, in her fire form. "Will you do tha', for me?"

He snapped to attention. "Yes, _ma'am!_" In such a way as to leave no doubt whatsoever. And with that, he turned and ran back towards the town of Dunwich.

_I hope I've not traumatized the poor lad too much,_ thought Aidoann, even as she flew up into the air, heading back towards the Whately place.

As for Jamie, his emotions had just barely begun to settle down. Had he been older, it probably would not have affected him quite the same way, but as it was, the combination of fear and recent events had worked a strange alchemy in him. All women have a certain power over men; most realize it and many use it to their advantage. But some are unaware of just how great a power it is, and occasionally use it unconsciously, without really meaning to.

The beautiful lady who'd rescued him was his friend. And she was more than a friend. She was an actual _superhero,_ just like the Human Torch in those old comics his mother wouldn't let him read. And she was going to try to save his people. And so his feelings had grown.

But then, on top of all that, he'd actually seen her naked. Accidently, true, but still. And an ancient line of genetic coding all males have, had come into play. He'd seen her naked, and this had affected his emotions on a level far beyond the conscious one.

So she was more than just his friend, his beautiful lady friend, his beautiful _superhero_ lady friend; in a way, she had become his _goddess._ And he was in Her service.

He'd do anything for Her.

He headed back into town at a dead run.

…..

To their credit, neither Kris nor Cal shrieked as the walls imploded around them. Cal instinctively grabbed her, shielding her as best he could, even as the Fantastic Battle Brain steadied himself against the floor. Because in the same instant as the walls imploding, so, too, _something_ detonated around the largest expanse of the living room, ripping a section of the floor completely out of the middle of the apartment, and a field of force sprang into existence. There was a feeling of free-fall, as the section of the floor they were standing on disconnected, and their self-contained bubble fell through three, four floors, each succeeding one detonating clear of their section, into an underground tunnel. They could hear the stabilizing gyros—the only thing that had kept their section of the floor from tilting out from under them as they fell-cut off as it settled onto the floor. "Quickly, you two," said the Brain, "Get inside the car." There was an old-style subway car waiting for them. "We don't have long."

As soon as they entered, he clicked something in the palm of his hand, and there was a low hum as some automatic machinery came online, and the car began to move. "Sorry about all that," said the Fantastic Battle Brain, as though this sort of thing happened to him all the time, "but I had been expecting something like that to happen for some time." He gestured to the vehicle around them. "Not the most state of the art equipment, but one makes do with what one has."

"What happened back there?" Kris was holding her head, still recovering from the roller coaster ride down into the subterranean tunnel.

"Sleeper agents. I had been keeping tabs on them, via the security cameras, plus a few of my own that I had, er, managed to install in useful places. Frankly, I'm surprised they waited as long as they did, but I knew once you two showed up, it would force their hand."

"Sleeper agents?" Cal was also recovering. He looked over at Kris. "You okay?"

Smile. "Yeah, Cal. I'm okay." The subway car _clickety-clacked_ _ chunked _its way over a rail system that, judging from the roughness of the ride, was in great need of repair. Cal only hoped they didn't come to any breaks or disjointings too large for the generous traction system to overcome. An occasional screech signified a particularly rough patch.

"Yes," continued the Brain, "I had been keeping tabs on them in the apartment complex for some time. They really weren't all that difficult to spot; it takes years of practice to be an actual, functioning human being. I'm afraid many of my neighbors were…compromised, shall we say? Not to mention the apartment staff. So I saw to it that I had a ready means of escape."

"Where, exactly, are we headed?"

"There's an abandoned way station just up ahead. At least, I hope it's still abandoned." He opened some compartments, retrieving some objects out of them. "I knew my apartment was being watched, and it was just a matter of time until the Silent Eternal Ones came for me. So I stashed what I could here and there." He drew forth a several odd looking devices, one of which was clearly a beam weapon of some sort. "The battle may just be beginning."

"So," Kris began, "You knew about us from the start?"

He gave her a bemused look. "In a manner of speaking. I knew about the People, and the Deep Ones. But I had no interest in joining a _what._ I was much more interested in joining a _who._ Until you two came along, I didn't have that information."

The Fantastic Battle Brain leaned forward, facing them both. "And partly because of that, I'll need quite a few more questions answered regarding the two of you. And of course, I will provide such information about myself as I can. You see, I've a strong hunch we'll be working together in the near future, and it pays to know as much as one can about one's allies.

"By the way, my name's Frank."

…..

Dunwich: Aidoann flew over the spot where she'd seen the grass withering. She had a hunch about what she was looking for, and it wouldn't make itself easy to find.

The trail of dead vegetation led all the way back to the massive stone altar atop Sentinel Hill, there, in the midst of the gigantic upraised stones that so reminded her of Stonehenge. As she expected, it seemed to have its origin at the altar itself. She flew over the altar stone, noting the lines of black goo…goo that didn't seem to be dry, like she'd seen in the abandoned farmhouse. But this was out in the open. It should dry sooner.

When Wilbur Whately had lost control of his monstrous sibling, it had taken to making regular pilgrimages to this unhallowed spot, usually after a "meal" of unsuspecting farmers. Viscous black goo had been found all about the altar stone, slopping over onto the side, with its attendant horrific smell. Everyone who saw it (and everyone who even vaguely understood what they were looking at) had assumed the goo to be some form of excrement. But what if it wasn't?

The human body contains many, many bacteria and viri which, in themselves, are either harmless or actually beneficial to humans. But human beings differ, even among the same species. A human being from another part of the world can easily carry a dangerous micro-organism to another part, where it can begin merrily killing everyone it encounters. Had something similar happened here?

Certainly _something_ had emanated from the altar stone, seeping downward, leaving a trail of dry, wilted grass snaking down past the giant standing stones of the circle, seeking…what? It seemed to be a truism that the Old Ones preferred to dine on living beings, and preferably intelligent ones. So…

Flying low to the ground, she could see a trail of the goo leading downward towards the fields. Flying as low as she dared, she could see it passing through the ruined Whately farmhouse, ambling, seemingly aimlessly, towards the neighboring fields…she remembered Jamie saying "it" had swallowed a cow. She could easily believe it. Poor kid, that he had to witness that.

The thought gave her determination. No one should have to live with such horrors. It was for this reason she—and the Family as a whole-fought.

The trail of dead vegetation led from where she'd encountered Jamie…and continued on towards the direction of the town itself. Yes, she could see the leading edge of the goo trickling, creeping towards the town, searchingly, but seemingly guided by some blind, malevolent instinct.

She doubted the thing was truly intelligent, any more than Wilbur's twin had been, or, if so, it was a sort of intelligence that humans could never understand. But whatever the case, it was headed straight for town. She had little doubt but that any living organism it encountered would be food for it.

_Hunger_ is universal.

She had to do something. These people might not be guiltless, but that didn't mean she should just leave them to their fate. Besides, there was Jamie to consider. He was a child. He didn't deserve to become a meal for this piece of a monster.

She did hope he'd managed to spread the word amongst the townsfolk that there was danger coming, as she wasn't really sure how to counter this thing. But she had to try.

Dunwich: Jamie had rounded up the other children. He knew the adults would never listen to him about danger coming from the hills and a beautiful fire goddess trying to save them all. But he knew they'd definitely chase a thief, or group of thieves.

Together with the others, he'd managed to hotwire a goodly number of the townspeople's motor vehicles. They might not run from a danger they hadn't seen and didn't believe in, but they'd definitely pursue a group of miscreant children who'd stolen their cars. Dunwich was a small community; very probably pursuit wouldn't be limited to just the local sheriff. Now….out by the southeastern roadway….he risked a glance behind him, towards the last place he'd seen his goddess, the westering sun. _For you, My Lady._

Behind him, the cry went up, and the chase was on.

Aidoann landed as close to the oozing tendril as she dared, switching back to her human form. She found she was extremely conscious of her nudity. She hoped Jamie had been successful in getting the townspeople away from the area for more than one reason: although it couldn't be helped, she winced when she thought about the distinct possibility of videos of her naked self showing up on Youtube. _But that would be just my luck._

As soon as her fire ceased, the tendril halted, turned slightly, reminding her of a snake. She picked up a rock. "Ovurr _here,_ ya disgustin' thing, you!" The rock landed right in the patch of ooze, and the leading tip of it turned her way. Good so far…she knew it wouldn't follow her in her fire state. She only hoped she'd be able to run fast enough to outpace it. But Aidoann was not just a child of the city; she'd grown up on her uncle's farm outside of Dumbarton. She was used to the outdoors.

Back along the path to the top of Sentinel Hill she ran, her red hair flying in the breeze. Her self-consciousness caused her whole face to turn tomato-red, but it couldn't be helped; there was no time to get a change of clothes anyway. She knew that ought to be of very minor importance to her, all else considering, but still she hoped no one would see her. But if they did, then so be it. They'd just have to settle for getting more than they'd bargained for. Her mum had told her she'd have to make sacrifices in order to work for the Family and all mankind, but somehow, she'd never pictured this as being one of them.

The ooze reversed itself, flowing uphill. _Good,_ she thought to herself. Perhaps not truly intelligent after all; it went for the closest meal rather than what it had sensed in the township. _Focus, girl,_ she reminded herself, even as she ran, _now would be an exceptionally poor time to twist an ankle._

She lightly ran up to the top of Sentinel Hill, ever sense alert for more tendrils of the ooze. There were a couple of offshoots that seemed to be in the process of "coming to life"; she hoped what she had in mind would put an end to _that_.

By now, the main tendril had followed her back up to the top of the hill, where the mighty stone circle surrounded the altar stone. _So much evil has emanated from this place,_ she thought, and expression of distaste on her face. _How many lives, how many people have been sacrificed here, to bring about this unholy monster?_ Fortunately, the very worst of it had already been vanquished by the men from Arkham.

She hoped. But if not, she was about to show no mercy on the remnant.

Perhaps there was something resembling intelligence of a sort within the ooze, because it seemed to be trying to encircle her, cutting off avenues of escape. She smiled a feral smile. She wasn't trying to escape.

The ooze flowed around her, forming a black, viscous circle around her and the altar stone, where its power was greatest.

_Now._

And standing there, in the midst of the stone circle, Aidoann summoned the Fire of Hastur and went nuclear.

Many miles to the southeast, the townspeople and their sheriffs had finally caught up with Jamie's hastily improvised convoy, when a light brighter than the noonday sun blossomed atop Sentinel Hill. Jamie looked back, shielding his eyes. "My Lady…" There was true reverence in his voice and heart.

A part of his soul would always belong to Her.

…

The way station seemed dark and lifeless, but nobody was taking any chances. Frank, the Fantastic Battle Brain, had given Kris something that resembled a Mag-lite flashlight, with an oddly sculpted handle, and a red dial just behind the main focusing head. "Remember, the flashlight beam is only for guidance. Pull this trigger," he showed her where it was, "and it produces an invisible microwave beam that should fry anything in close range. Be careful." She'd nodded and taken the improvised weapon.

Frank had his own gun out, its laser finder stabbing into the cobwebbed darkness of the deserted station.

Silence. Had they beaten the sleeper agents here? Cal risked a glance at Frank; from the latter's expression, he didn't think so. "Let me get some things…." He fussed around behind some packing crates, searching for something.

Kris was turned away, covering another shadowed part of the station, so only Cal noticed the ruby-red spot on Frank's back. He knew what it was instantly, and unhesitatingly dove for him, knocking Frank out of the way of the sniper bullet….

…and feeling the shock of the bullet tearing into him.

He felt consciousness fading, even as he heard Kris shriek his name…

_To be continued…_


	14. Chapter 14 Recovery

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 14: Recovery

_Once again, I refer all readers to Thomas Perkins' retro comics covers of "Kid Kthulhu" on Deviantart. Maybe if we all beg loud enough, he'll actually publish the whole comic(s)? How many people would buy 'em? Besides me, I mean?_

…_._

Recovery

_He dreamed he was underwater, deep deep underwater, at the sunken temple of R'lyeh, leading the seemingly endless legions of the Deep Ones in their worship service to Great Cthulhu. He "stood," inasmuch as he could be said to be standing, upon a titanic pyramid shaped structure fashioned with many terraces, circled round by coral gardens, which his sight revealed to be lovely shades of blues and greens, with some scarlet colors thrown in for good measure. How he was able to see colors, this far down, away from all sunlight, he didn't know, and, truthfully, didn't care._

_As usual, P'thya was by his side, looking up at him with an adoring expression on her lovely face. Part of him asked, why was she doing that? He didn't really understand._

_But part of him very much understood._

"_Cal?" she asked._

"_Yes?" They communicated without the need for spoken speech, but it was still not always easy to understand what she meant._

"_Cal." The rites were done, and she took him by the arm, drawing him back into the room behind them, where there was a large round bed. Even though they were underwater, a bed was still a bed…and had more than one use._

_His dream-self knew that this was right and proper. The two of them belonged together. They belonged to each other, in a way that made them almost one being. She came into his arms, almost purring, loosening the fastenings on the odd garment he found himself wearing. He began to help her, even as he worked at the fastenings of her own clothes…._

…_.but…_

_But something held him back. There was something else, something from another life. He couldn't shake the image of another girl, a short, energetic girl with dark always-tousled hair, brown eyes, and a quick and ready smile. Who was she? The He that he was now didn't know, but it seemed important that he find out, somehow._

_P'thya sensed his hesitation, looking up at him from his embrace. She smiled a sad little smile that made his heart twist; he would sooner hurt himself than hurt her. She placed her hand upon his chest, over his heart. "KaRiss," she said, very softly, laying her head back against his chest. _

_Then her smile took on a decidedly untamed twist, and she wrapped her arms all the way around him, possessively, and pressed her head even closer to his chest. "P'thya," she said._ _And here the meaning was quite clear._

_Mine__._

…_.._

He came to awareness gradually, conscious only of the sheer whiteness of the room he was in. It made him squint, it was so bright.

Turning his head, he saw Kris dozing in a chair off to one side. She'd clearly fallen asleep there, an opened magazine in her lap, her head resting on her shoulder. "K-Kris? What—" Memory came flooding back, even as she opened her eyes and leapt to his side. "Don't try to move or anything, Cal. You took a bullet and damn near died." She paused, tears starting to run down her face. "Cal, why'd you _do_ that?"

Before he could answer, another voice spoke up from the doorway. "Ah, Mr. Michaels. Glad to see you're awake." Brother Elder and Frank had just entered the room.

He looked groggily at them. "How…?"

"We had an extraction team prepped, for just such a situation as transpired. Your mission was a complete success. Frank, here," he gestured to the blue-skinned man with the visible brain beside him, "has joined us, and already provided us with valuable tactical insight as to our foes' operations and goals." A pause. "Your reflexes proved to be a trifle faster than the enemy sniper's trigger finger. Fortunately, for you, a bullet through the chest isn't a major wound; you've a healing factor that would astound many a fictional superhero. Were you human, you'd be dead. The bullet—a high-velocity expanding round—went right through your left lung. As I said, with anybody else, that would not be a survivable wound, but you regenerate very quickly indeed. Though personally, I would advise you against repeated stunts of this nature. Still, this time, it seemed to work out."

"And, I should add my personal thanks to you, young sir," said Frank. "Had that bullet hit me, I would no longer be with you. You have my sincerest gratitude. I'm in your debt."

Cal reached out and took Kris's arm, primarily to make contact with her, but also because she looked like she was about to tell them exactly where they could stick their gratitude. "Kris…it's alright. I'm okay." To the others. "I'm glad…everything went as well as it did."

"Indeed. Well, rest and recuperate, Mr. Michaels. And of course, you know that anything you need, you've but to ask. We'll leave the two of you alone, now." And they left.  
He was left alone in the hospital room with a decidedly angry looking Kris standing over him, hands on her hips. "We," she began, "are _really_ gonna have to talk."

…

The released him the next day, with Kris accompanying him back to the suite of rooms he'd been allotted at the Gilman House, for his stay in Innsmouth. "Home away from home," he muttered. It really wasn't bad at all.

From the outside, the building looked like a run-down hotel, but inside, once you got past certain "show" rooms, the accommodations changed dramatically. Cal's suite, one level down, had a living room with a large-screen "smart" TV/Blu-ray combination entertainment system, a curved couch and several recliners spaced behind it. There was a kitchenette that was actually a fully stocked kitchen (for some reason, the Innsmouth folk seemed to be inordinately fond of fish and fish products), and, off to one side, a bedroom with the largest king-sized bed Cal had ever seen. Also the softest. It was to this room that Kris led him, holding onto his arm in a supportive way, even though he'd assured her he didn't need help walking. Lately, she'd seemed reluctant to let him out of her sight; he guessed he could understand that. That time when her own life had been threatened, she'd insisted on him staying at her place, in her bed, platonically, of course. But he had found that he needed that comfort, too, the comfort of just holding her close, breathing in her scent, hearing her voice, feeling her body pressed up against him, and _knowing that she was alright_. He'd almost lost her that day.

He'd never told her that.

"Are you sure you can handle it, Cal?" asked a worried Kris.

"Sure, I'm okay, Kris. Hey, I may not be Wolverine, but, really, I feel fine." Then he frowned. "But I _would_ really rather not get shot again."

"Well, _duh!_"

He noticed something on the table. It was a large envelope. Picking it up, he glanced through it. "Hm. Seems Aidoann hasn't been idle." Kris crowded around him, looking around his arm. She was way too short to look over his shoulder. The report inside described what the agent of Hastur had been doing in Dunwich, though it was lacking in particulars. "I guess whoever's calling the shots for her sent her to Dunwich. Wonder what she was looking for there?"

"The Shining Trapezohedron, for sure, but maybe other things, too." Kris took the folder out of his hands and glanced over it. There were several satellite photos of Aidoann in action. Kris smiled a crooked smile. "There she goes getting all naked again. Somebody really needs to work on that girl a fireproof outfit or something."

"Naked, huh? Lemme see," quipped Cal, craning his neck in a mock attempt to look at the pictures.

She clasped them close to her chest. "You," she began, sternly, "aren't old enough to be seeing these." Then she relented, grinning. "Besides, it's just some low-res shots of her taken from orbit. But I wonder why she blew up the entire mountaintop, anyway?"

"Dunno. But it kinda sounds like her style, you have to admit. She doesn't seem to have the 'subtle' gene."

"You can say that again." She noticed him wincing, and immediately slid all the papers back into the envelope. "All this can wait. It's old news anyway. Come on, Cal. Let's get you ready for bed. You need your sleep."

Later, after he'd gotten showered and changed, and was scanning over the files that had been left there (and still trying to puzzle out what Aidoann could have been looking for, in that backward community, or why she felt the need to destroy the entire top of Sentinel Hill—that is, aside from just being Aidoann), he heard a knock on the door. A knock he recognized. "Come in, Kris."

She came in, wearing her blue pajamas, her hair already tied up for bed. "Cal? Gotta minute?"

"Well, I got all these pressing appointments crowding me, but I suppose I could spare a few seconds, I guess. What's on your mind?"

Her smile just plain did something to him. "Okay, smartass." She came over and sat down by him on the bed. "Cal? Is it just me, or did this whole thing—San Fran, an' all—just seem to come off a little too easy?"

He made a show of feeling around his chest. "I must've missed something. When was the easy part? Was it before or after I got shot?"

She _whapped_ him on his bare shoulder. "Now don't be a butthole. I don't mean _that_; yeah, that was horrible. But, Cal, think: why only _one_ sniper? Why not half a dozen? They could've taken us all out, caught us in a crossfire, so easy.

"And Frank. Yeah, he seems like an okay guy—on the surface. But he knew about his neighbors being turned into sleeper agents…and he did nothing? I know, I know: maybe he didn't know what to do or who to go to with that sort of thing—truth to tell, I wouldn't know either, in similar circumstances—but he saw it coming far enough in advance to prepare that self-destructo floor plan of his apartment, the subway car, and even had stuff stashed away? I mean, you don't do that sort of thing just overnight, you know. It takes years. At least," and here she paused, sitting beside him on the bed, "It does if you're working alone. And he says he was."

"And so you wonder."

"And so I wonder." Abruptly, she lay back on the bed beside him, on top of the covers. Once again, he could smell her clean, soapy scent. "I wonder just how much of what he tells us is the truth. And how much of it is just what we want to hear."

"Well, we know one thing for sure: Frank _can't_ be a sleeper agent. We can _see_ his brain." And that was true. The brains the Elder Things transplanted into human bodies didn't resemble Earth brains at all, being white and smooth and featureless. "So that means, he'd have to be in the pay of somebody. Who?"

She shook her head back and forth, lying there on his pillow. "No idea. But…I just can't help but be just a little bit suspicious."

"Well, you know something? Maybe that's not a totally bad idea." Sigh. "Maybe we don't need to trust anyone too much, Kris. Now, you I'd trust you with my life. But everyone else? Yeah, a little healthy suspicion never killed anybody."

Her mouth twisted in a half-smile. Then her expression sobered, and she turned to him, moving upwards, drawing him towards hers, an unreadable expression on her face. He turned to her, watching her a bit nervously. She looked like she was about to….

"_And I certainly don't trust Brother Elder,"_ she whispered into his ear. Then, _"Listening devices."_ With that, she kissed him on the cheek, and immediately sprang out of bed. "Tomorrow, I'll run back to the house, see what bills need paying, do a little cleaning." Turning from the door, she saw his look, and smiled at him. "Don't worry, ya big baby. I'll be back before you know it." And she was gone.

He continued looking at the door for a few minutes, hoping against hope that he didn't look as disappointed as he felt.

Arkham, the next day: Kris had gone by Cal's house, picked up the bills, and done some light cleaning. Brother Elder had arranged for Brother Oberon's group to go through the place regularly, renewing the spells that made it secure, and some of them apparently took the time to do a little cleaning, too. So that was good. Strangely, Kris wasn't the least bit worried about theft; somehow she just couldn't see any of the Innsmouth people as sinking that low.

She went by the school to pick up Cal's assignments, offering the standard rationale of him "visiting friends," as well as cooperating with the authorities in the search for his mother, as the reason for his not being there. Nobody had questioned it, though Kris was fairly sure nobody else could've gotten away with such an extended absence. She had once heard Brother Elder say, only half-jokingly (she'd thought), something about "the _other_ golden rule: He who has the gold, makes the rules." She had a hunch Innsmouth money would explain a lot of the leeway the educational system was affording him.

"Kris! Where is _yurr_ friend?" Aidoann's voice caught her from behind, and she turned to see the red-haired girl just then exiting class. "I have nae seen either of you much, of late. Is Cal al_rr_ight?" She shifted her backpack a little, and lengthened her stride to catch up with Kris.

"Oh, yeah, Aidoann. Cal's just visiting some friends. He, uh, had a bit of an accident, and so he's resting up." Kris was dividing her attention between the list of Cal's assignments, and some bills she'd retrieved from his home. Cal had arranged for her to have check-writing privileges on his account, and she was prioritizing which bills needed to be paid first. Some, of course, came out in drafts…

"He is nae at home?" Aidoann fell into step alongside of her.

"No. He's staying with some friends at a little town down the road, place called Innsmouth. He-*" But she was cut off by Aidoann's gasp.

"_Innsmouth?_ Surely, he _can_nae' be stayin there!" The taller girl put her arm on Kris's arm, alarm in her face and voice.

"Well, yeah, but…it's cool, Aidoann. They're some just some people he knows. That we both know. He's alright. I'm going right back there, right now, in fact." Aidoann was looking _more_ agitated. Too late Kris remembered that the fire girl was aware of the various players on the board, and was probably aware of Innsmouth's significance. "He's fine, Aidoann. Really. He'll probably be back here today."

But Aidoann still looked upset. "I would nae' let him stay e'en a single night in such a place, alone. You are going _rr_ight back there? You should be careful, too!"

How much did this girl know? "Uh, why's that, Aidoann?" The two of them were walking out towards their respective cars, in the parking lot.

"I have…heard things. It is good that you two are togethe_rr_; it isnae' safe, there, I've heard, fo_rr…_young people, especially. Things," she shuddered visibly, "happen to those caught there. _Terrible_ things."

"Well, look, it's really okay. I'm going straight back there, and I promise I won't let him outta my sight, 'kay? And tell you what: when we get back, we'll give you a call, and we'll all go somewhere, do something. Out on the town, so to speak. Okay?" She needed to calm Aidoann down, lest she go off right there in the parking lot.

"Tha' would be verra' nice, indeed. Call me." She got in her car and left.

_What was __that__ all about?_ Kris wondered.

Innsmouth: "I ran into Aidoann today," Kris was telling Cal about the episode as they were both packing the few things he'd need to carry back to Arkham.

"I hope she wasn't naked this time."

"Dream on. No, but she was awfully concerned about you." Kris came over and sat by him on the couch. The two of them were still in his suite at the Gilman House, preparing to return to Arkham.

"Concerned about me? Why?"

Shrug. "Dunno. But I kinda got the impression she thought your tender young loins might be in danger. You haven't been tom-cattin' around over here, have ya?" she said, with a big smirk on her face.

He laughed. "Kris! Come on!" But then he noticed her sobering.

"Well, Cal, think. Remember, you talked about human / Deep One hybrids? We've always assumed it to be, y'know, male Deep One on female human. But I guess there's such things as female Deep Ones, aren't there?"

A female Deep One…why did that provoke such a response in him? It struck him almost like a flash of heat lightning, seen from a distance: silent, but attention-getting. He'd never really considered that before…but it made sense.

And why did the notion of a _female Deep One_ seem to strike a, a _chord_ within him, almost like a _memory?_

"So I guess she wants me to be the Guardian of your Virginity, Cal, at least 'till she gets the chance to ravish you herself." Kris was back in her customary "tease" mode, laughing as he sputtered in embarrassment. "So c'mon, loverboy, let's get your stuff loaded up and put in the car. It's still a good drive to Arkham." She got up.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Kris, do you _have_ to tease me like that?"

"'Course. Life would have no meaning otherwise. Why'd you ask?"

"Ah, just checking."

_To be continued…_


	15. Chapter 15: Secrets

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 15: Secrets

_Those of you who haven't already done so, please check out Thomas Perkins' retro comics covers of "Kid Kthulhu" on Deviantart for the inspiration for this story. You won't be disappointed!_

Secrets:

Back at Arkham: Kris and Cal had barely had time to unload, and were relaxing when there was a knock on the door. They both looked at each other. Who?

Aidoann stood just outside the door, a worried expression on her lovely face. For the first time, Kris noted that the Scots girl didn't appear to either need or wear any makeup. Now, that was just plain unfair. "Cal? K_rr_is? Are the both of you al_rr_ight?"

They exchanged the briefest of glances. Aidoann had to've been keeping tabs on them to know just when they returned. "Yeah, Aidoann, we're fine," Kris assured her. She gestured to Cal, standing beside her. "See? He's fine. We both are. No problems."

The fire girl looked down. "I—I am so_rr_y for disturbing you. I…. I was just worried."

"It's okay, Aidoann," said Cal. "Nothing's wrong. I just had a bit of a tumble, stayed over at the local clinic while they checked me out." He paused. "It's nice of you to be so concerned, though."

"Thank you. Well, as long as you two are alright, I'll be going then." And she turned to go.

"Wait, Aidoann," said Cal, "Kris and I were just about to fix supper. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, I doon't know, I really couldn't…"

"C'mon," urged Kris, stepping out and taking the agent of Hastur by the arm, "It'll be fun. 'Sides, I'm in the mood to try something new. You can be my guinea pig."

"Er…guinea pig?"

With both Cal and Kris working on supper, it didn't take long to complete. Aidoann fidgeted the whole time. After all, she was, she felt, an intruder here. Although she prided herself on being open minded, she didn't see Cal and Kris as being able to pursue their relationship with her in the house. She resolved to leave as soon as possible, let them have some time alone.

_Perhaps I shouldn't have come,_ she thought. But she'd heard such horrific tales of young men and women disappearing from Innsmouth…plus, she knew the Deep Ones had no compunction whatsoever about inseminating pretty much anything that moved. Apparently, they seemed to adhere to the philosophy that "a hole is a hole," and hadn't been shy about demonstrating that, in the past. That both Cal and Kris had apparently escaped from Innsmouth unmolested gave her an immense feeling of relief.

But now she felt like she was keeping them from resuming their, for them, normal routine. Well, she'd just go, first chance she got.

"Are you su_rr_e I canna' be of any help to you?" she asked for about the thirty-second time.

"Quite sure," said Kris. "In fact, it's ready now. But if you'd like to set the table…"

Dinner was quite good. Aidoann had been prepared for something either spicier than she was used to, or too bland. But the beef tips, asparagus with cheese sauce, green bean casserole, along with the mashed potatoes and gravy, proved to be quite excellent, and perfectly seasoned. Her two friends were evidently experienced cooks. It reminded her of home, with her mum's home-cooking. The thought brought a pang of homesickness to her heart.

"So, Aidoann," began Cal, as Kris served the rice pudding dessert, "how has school been, while I've been away?"

"Verra' much the same. Though I did hear that Mrs. Kellam is planning on retiring, at the end of the year."

Cal and Kris exchanged looks. "Well, I wish her the best. I don't suppose it comes as any surprise if I should tell you she really wasn't our favorite teacher."

Aidoann attacked her dessert. She'd have to get this recipe; it was delicious. "From what I hae' gathered, she was no popular with many of the students. I did not know her well enough t' have an opinion on it, one way or the other."

There was brief pause. Then, Cal said, as casually as he could, "Aidoann, I don't mean to pry, but what about you? How is your family, back in Scotland?"

Aidoann paused in her chewing for the briefest of moments. These were her friends, but still. How much should she tell? "My mum lives in Dumbarton, but I was raised on my uncle's farm, out in the country. He raises sheep, and a few other livestock, occasionally. Mostly sheep. I spent most of my time there, only coming into town to attend school. My mum's family is…a bit spread out. We have frequent get-togethers, but not as often as if we lived in the same area, you understand."

"Oh, of course. Yeah, it makes it difficult, when everybody lives so far apart."

"But in spite of that, we're…_rr_ather a close knit bunch. Certain…experiences in our family tend to draw us together."

"Oh?"

"Yes." How much should she tell her new friends? She didn't think it wise to reveal everything, about how the Family operated, and the eternal war against the Great Old Ones, who had striven, since time began, almost, return to the world of men and make it their own. On the one hand, telling them, taking them into her confidence, might would enable them to make better decisions, decisions that would help preserve their lives. But she really didn't think the Family would want her talking about that sort of thing with people not affiliated with the Family. "We have mutual ongoing interests, and projects that frequently conve_rr_ge."

"Sounds like your family gets along well, with each other. That's good. I've heard of some families that can hardly stand to get together, because of hard feelings, or past incidents. At least your people get along."

"_Tha'_ we do. What about you_rr_s?

"Well," began Kris, "my mom and dad's divorced. He's in the military, stationed in Germany. I never hear from my mother." She glanced at Cal. Their lives had begun to intertwine some years ago, but she wasn't sure if he wanted to be reminded of his mother's disappearance.

Cal took it from there. "Kris has been like family to me, and to my mother, as well. In fact," and here he glanced at his friend with a half-smile, "I think she sorta 'adopted' my mom as hers. So it hit us both hard when Mom disappeared, a while back-*"

He heard Aidoann gasp. "Yui_rr_ mother has _disappeared?_ I, I did nae' know this! Oh, Cal!"

"Yes." He really didn't like dwelling on the incident, but there was no reason not to tell her. It was common knowledge. "Kris had stayed over that night, and the next morning, we went to wake Mom up, only to find she wasn't there, in her room. We think she was kidnapped, because her window was left open, and I know for a fact that Mom _never_ slept with her window open."

"Kidnapped." Aidoann's face was pale. She could only imagine how she'd feel, if her mum were to just…vanish from the face of the Earth, as Cal's mom evidently had. "But, but you've people looking for her, have ya not? I mean, the authorities…"

"Oh, yes, they're searching for her. But so far they haven't turned up much."

"I…I c'n only imagine how you must feel, Cal." Inspiration struck her. "_Perr_haps I can help."

"Help? How?"

"I, I know some people." How much should she reveal? "Friends of my family, back in Scotland. They're, well," she colored slightly, "they're psychics. Sensitives. If you have some article _yuirr_ mum wore a lot, _perr_haps they could tell something from it. If, if you would nae' mind doin' that, I mean," she finished, hoping they wouldn't laugh at her.

But instead of laughing at her, they both seemed to consider the matter seriously. "That's a very generous offer, Aidoann. Yeah, I'll see if there's not something in Mom's closet that she wore. Does it matter if it was cleaned? No? Okay, good. I'll get you something. And thanks. We can never get too much help in this…matter."

They got up, picking up the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. As they did, they talked more. "So, Kris…how long ha' you known Cal?"

"Since fifth grade. He was so much fun to beat up." She looked at him, impishly. "And he didn't seem to mind." Cal just smiled.

Aidoann laughed, feeling at ease around her new friends. _They're just like a married couple._ Then her expression sobered. It was to save people like these that she and the Family fought, to keep the horror of the Old Ones from ever returning to Earth, to the world of men. To keep the madness away.

And she, herself, would be one to stand between the horrors of the Elder World and her friends and family. Her mum had told her it could easily mean her death, in fact, it very probably would. But Aidoann knew she'd rather die than live in such a hellish world, knowing, all the while, she could've done something to prevent it once.

"You're kinda quiet," observed Kris. They'd finished loading the dishwasher and were busying themselves tidying up the kitchen. "Is something on your mind?"

_Much responsibility._ "No, no. Just remembering home. I suppose I'm a wee bit homesick."

Kris smiled. "Well, that's to be expected. After all, you're a stranger in a strange land. You haven't had time to build up any memories here. Say. Wanna join us in watching television? We've got Netflix, we can pretty much stream in anything you like. What kind of shows do you like?"

"Oh, I could nae'-*"

"Sure you could. C'mon. Sit with us a little while."

And so they ended up sitting on the couch in the living room, with the movie _Inception_ being streamed in. At Kris's insistence, she sat beside them on the couch, her long legs folded up underneath her. Cal pulled up the blu-ray edition, and so the hi-def TV delivered the best graphics Aidoann had ever seen. It was really better than any movie theater she'd ever been in.

And she was enjoying the movie with friends.

When Aidoann had first accepted the assignment to come to the States in search of the _Omnis Oculis_, she'd originally thought that it would be an onerous but necessary task, one she must do, and that she'd just be in and out. Find the Trapezohedron, gather what memory crystals she could, and get back home to Scotland. The States just weren't for her. And besides, she just didn't like being away from home, from her family, though really she guessed nobody did.

But now…now she found herself _actually having a good time._ Somehow, judging by all the movies and TV shows she'd seen, she'd always depicted American "good times" as being at some nightclub, casino, or some other fast-paced, loud, local (and probably illegal, to one degree or another) hotspot. The notion that young Americans might like to simply stay home and watch TV, just like ordinary people…had never really occurred to her. _Perhaps I was a wee bit hasty in my judgment._

But now, Kris was showing signs of weariness. She had been sitting right next to Cal; now she lay back against him, her head on his shoulder, and nodded off. He looked at her; Aidoann knew a loving look when she saw it, and smiled. They were such a cute couple, and they just seemed to _fit_ together, somehow. "She's exhausted," he whispered. Then he gently shook her awake. "Kris? Maybe it's time for you to go on to bed."

"Mmm." She yawned and stretched. "Yeah, you're prol'ly right. I'm out on my feet." She got up and headed towards a room below the stairs.

_Now,_ Aidoann was definitely feeling like a fifth wheel. This would be their time alone together, and so the only polite thing to do was leave. She fished her keys out, and unfolded her legs from the couch. "Well, I'll be going. I, uh, really had a nice time. Thank you two for inviting me." She began putting her shoes on.

"No need to hurry, Aidoann. I won't be going to bed for a few more minutes, anyway. I wanted to catch the local news. And I'll get you that piece of my mother's clothing you asked about." He got up, and picked up Kris's shoes, that she'd left by the couch.

"Well, yes, but I, I really don't mean to intrude…"

He gave her a puzzled look. "You aren't _intruding_, Aidoann. We _invited _you. Whatever gave you the idea you were intruding?"

She flapped her hands nervously. "Well, I mean, I doon't want to, to keep you from her…."

_Now_ he stopped and gave her another, longer look. "'Keep me from her'? Uh, Aidoann….precisely what kind of relationship do you think I have with Kris?"

Aidoann felt her face getting warm, but with embarrassment, rather than actual heat. Did he _have_ to force her to spell it out? "I, I only mean, she, she lives here with you…." _Come on, don't make me come right out and say it._

He stared for a moment longer, then…blushed and chuckled, simultaneously. "Oh, Aidoann. I'm afraid you've misread our relationship a bit. Kris and I are best friends, not…friends with benefits."

"You…you're not?"

"No. That room she was headed for is the downstairs guest room. That's where she stays when she stays over. My room's upstairs." He pointed up towards the second floor. "That's where _I'll_ be going, later. We, uh. We don't….well, you know what I mean."

Aidoann felt like her whole face was as red as her hair. "I'm _such_ a fool."

He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "You are not. I can see how you'd get that impression. I mean, everybody else knows Kris and I are nothing more than good friends, but you've only just arrived. It was a perfectly natural mistake. One anybody could've made."

_But the things I thought about you. About you both._ "Yes, well, I am having difficulty lately with making far too many mistakes, it would seem. More than my fair share, or so it seems to me."

His laughter actually made her feel better. He wasn't offended; it was just a misunderstanding that bothered nobody. He put an arm around her in a quick, friendly hug. "It's alright. But let's not tell Kris. She'd laugh herself into a hernia."

….

Innsmouth: the following week:

Brother Elder had given the OK for Cal's training to step up a notch, and Kris was watching as the Innsmouth trainers (Innsmouthians?) put him through his paces.

She had to admit, he'd come a long way in the martial arts skills. She guessed he was the equivalent of an orange or maybe even a green belt _karate_ trainee.

But there was more to it that just physical conditioning. He was also being trained in the use of his powers, a good many of which stemmed from a specialty of his: hydromancy. Simply put, he had almost complete control over water.

She watched as he summoned, condensed, and used water, straight from what appeared to be dry atmosphere. Brother Tanis, one of his coaches, explained to Kris that water was present in just about any spot on Earth. The only thing that differed was the amount and the concentration.

"Of course, there isn't much water in the Sahara Desert, for example. But even there, there is some moisture present in the atmosphere. That can be utilized by one who knows how, and has the ability."

So she watched while Cal brought into being water droplets, forming them into spheres that, held together by his will, could be propelled at such speed and with such force as to penetrate all but the hardest, most obdurate materials on Earth. "Like a real-life Magneto, in that scene where he used the iron in the guard's blood," Cal told her. "Only I don't have to kill anybody to do it."

"And that," said Brother Tanis, "brings us to another aspect of you powers. You are not yet ready to begin training in this specific realm, but it is still something you need to be mindful of."

"What's that?"

"It _is_ quite possible for you to kill with your powers. Remember, all life on Earth is water-based. What do you suppose would happen if you should command all the water in someone's body to leave that person?"

"Oooh. Yeah, I…never thought about it like that."

"Now's the time you should. For should you employ your powers—your unique nature—in such a way, it must be deliberate. Until then, you are a loaded gun. Right now, you're working on your sights." Tanis's lined face quirked in a very slight, and, for him, a very unusual, smile. "Try to keep your finger off the trigger."

Later, in Cal's suite: "You know, Kris, that's kinda scary, that part about me using my powers to kill someone. I never thought about…that part before. But yeah, I can totally see it happening."

"Well, that's what all this training is all about. Isn't it? But Cal, there's one thing about your powers that worries me way more."

"What's that?"

"Remember what Brother Elder said, 'way back when, about your connection with Azathoth?"

"Yeah." Cal rubbed his chin. "He said not to."

"Yeah, well, I second that emotion. Have they told you any more about that part?"

Cal thought. "No. Not really. Oh, a couple of times, they've asked me about my dreams…and, Kris, I've had 'em. Dreams of, of floating in space, or what looks like space, sort of, and of nothing making any sense, of trying to wake up. But I don't know if that's me or…"

She put a hand on his arm. They were sitting side by side on the couch in front of the entertainment system, but neither of them really felt like watching TV. At Cal's insistence, Kris had been allotted a similar, albeit smaller suite just next door, but he was privately glad when she chose to stay over, on his couch, or, sometimes, and more frequently, of late, on the other side of his bed. He wasn't sure how he felt about his friend being alone here, even if it was right next door. _Maybe I'm catching some of Aidoann's paranoia._ Brother Elder had even seen fit to devise and arrange a training schedule for Kris, consisting mostly of martial arts plus firearms training. ("After all, if the two of you are to be a team, you'd best train as one.") Already, she had learned to field-strip, reassemble, and accurately fire such weapons as were commonly used around the world. Her favorite, however, remained either the AK-47, or the Remington 870 riot configured twelve gauge shotgun, with her Glock 9mm to back it up."The thing that worries me most about that, Cal, is that it may not be totally you. When you do the water thing, yeah, all that comes from you, and is controlled by you, but…this Azathoth thing…Azathoth is a self-aware entity. A _powerful _entity. Brother Elder and the others seem to think he, or it, or whatever, may use _you_ to wake up. And that would be bad."

"Bad. Yeah, that's one way of putting it." From what he'd been told, Azathoth could wipe out all reality, all space and time, with no more than a thought. In fact, most of the Innsmouth experts tended to agree that all reality seemed to be a dream of Azathoth's, a dream that would just disappear when Azathoth woke up, dispelling like a morning mist. What was even more unnerving was that some recent scientific studies had seemed to indicate something similar, as well.

That kind of power was scary. Especially since he didn't know if he had the power…

….or the power had _him._

Thursday: Brother Elder had summoned them to a meeting to discuss the next mission. When they arrived, he and Frank were pouring over a map of northern Australia. "Here," said Brother Elder, "is the next spot we need to infiltrate. Not only is it a reputed nest of Silent Eternal Ones, but it also, at one time, served as base of operations, sort of, to another alien race, one calling itself 'The Great Race.'" His mouth quirked. "One supposes excessive modesty wasn't an issue with them."

"There's no indication the Great Race is active there now," said Frank, the Fantastic Battle Brain, "but that may not mean much. The Great Race weren't so much physical organisms as they were almost purely mental ones, surviving by transferring their individual and collective consciousness into the bodies of others, usually others in, what were to them, future epochs. It was a way of time travel, I suppose you'd say."

"I notice you use the past tense,'" Cal interjected. "Any reason to think they're still around? How would we know?"

"It's actually not that difficult. True, if enough of the Great Race's members were to transfer their consciousness into a common time period, it would complicate things. But an individual member would stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. Keep in mind, they come from bodies that are totally nonhuman in design. If you were transplanted into the body of, say, a spider, you'd probably not know how to operate it."

"Yeesh," Kris shuddered. "There's an image."

"There've been some cases, in recorded history, where we believe that members of the Great Race—scouts, maybe—have swapped minds with humans, but in every case, the results were fairly obvious, though often attributed to some form of mental illness. When you don't even know how to walk, talk, or use your hands, it doesn't make for a very successful invasion."

"More brain transplanters. Doesn't anybody stay in their own head anymore?" Cal snorted.

"We sincerely hope all of us will. And that reminds me," Brother Elder handed him a folder. "Brother Oberon's people have prepared a series of spells to ward off such a transposition in both you and Ms. Simone. As this method of mind transfer is based more on science than sorcery, it can't be completely guaranteed to be 100% successful, but it will make the transfer _much_ more difficult. That, combined with certain amulets, should effectively give you both as much protection from such an attack as can be managed." Cal nodded. So far, he'd seen no reason to distrust the machinations of Brother Oberon's people. The spells they'd crafted had apparently succeeded in doing precisely what they had said they would do. Of course, considering the consequences, he'd really rather not witness a failure.

And of course, if it was all a hoax, then no wonder they worked. But Cal had seen enough to know that it couldn't _all_ be an act. "These spells won't affect us in any way, will they?"

"No. They will basically 'lock' in your current consciousness into your body. Any attempt to oust that consciousness will be met with vigorous resistance." Cal glanced at Kris, and saw a small look of relief on her face. Not for the first time, it occurred to him that she was going into danger right alongside him, sharing the danger. He wished he knew of some way to keep her safe from it. "Now, bear in mind, this won't be effective against the surgical approach the Spawn of Ygdrll are fond of, but it will give you some measure of protection against the Great Race, should they, for some unknown reason, attempt to oust your minds."

It hadn't been that long ago that the worst thing they'd both had to worry about was an overdue bill, or a pop quiz in class. Now here they were, literally going under the gun to save the Earth from outer space demons. He couldn't think of any other girl, or for that matter, anyone at all, who'd have stuck by him through all this cosmic-level insanity and danger. Only Kris. _I'm lucky to have her._

"What about Aidoann, sir? Have you found out anything about her?" Cal's interest was piqued.

Brother Elder shook his head. "There's not a lot of information available. We know there's no professional organization backing her, not like us. What information we have suggests a small, er, well, 'family owned and operated' business, to use a phrase." He shrugged slightly. "It wouldn't be the first time. And you mentioned they have psychics…from all we've surmised so far, she is the offspring of Hastur, and that's where her powers come from. And she acts as the agent of her family in missions such as you and Ms. Simone are charged with. That makes her no less dangerous. I should caution you: should your secret identity become known to her, she may regard it as her holy duty to eradicate you from the face of the Earth. That," another quirky smile, "would prove most…inconvenient."

Cal thought. "Any chance we could, maybe, bring her onboard? I mean, she'd be invaluable…"

But Brother Elder was shaking his head. "Too many variables. And remember: she's probably been indoctrinated with horror stories about the other Great Old Ones, Great Cthulhu, Yog-Sothoth, Shub-Niggurath, and the rest. Perhaps in time, she might be approachable, but for now, it's just too risky. You, for example. She'd no doubt see you as some kind of abomination, a hybrid spawn of Great Cthulhu and a human woman, even as the professors from Arkham University saw the late, unlamented Wilbur Whately. A monster is a monster, to most."

"Thing is," said Kris, "she can cause so much trouble, working at cross-purposes to us."

"That she can, but I know of no help for it, at this stage. But anyway. Getting back to the mission…Frank? Do you want to go over the plan with them?"

"Yes." The Fantastic Battle Brain cleared his throat. "Now, here are the last known coordinates for what appears to be an underground network of caverns leading down into the Earth's crust. We surmise the Great Race established this base as a foothold in this time and world, in case of the need arising to 'migrate' to this time period. There should be records there. Most importantly, there are rumors—unsubstantiated, true, but rumors nonetheless—that the Great Race had developed some sort of weapon to use against the Old Ones. A surprisingly effective weapon; it evidently produced a kind of stalemate between the two sides. Considering that the Great Race was fighting what were, to all intents and purposes, gods, that is saying quite a lot.

"We doubt the Trapezohedron is there. More on that later. But for now, we need information regarding these weapons the Great Race evidently developed. You notice, right here is perhaps the most desolate sector of the entire outback. The locals avoid it like the plague, and well they should. Even though there's been no sign of activity from the Great Race, this is their focal point, their nexus here in our space and time. If there was to be any activity, it would probably begin here."

Brother Elder straightened up. "We'll provide you with transportation, of course, and we've contracted a native to guide you once you get there. But aside from that, you'll be pretty much on your own. More so than before, I must add. In previous times, we've been able to have an extraction team standing by. That may prove more problematic in this particular case. Sending in troops is very different when international boundaries are crossed." He smiled a humorless smile. "Do try not to need them."

Frank pointed to the spot on the map. "This is to be basic recon: get in, see what's there, get what you can, and get out. There shouldn't be any enemies to fight, even though the Silent Eternal Ones do have colonies in the Outback, this doesn't appear to be one of them. At least, not right here, not an active one, anyway."

"Will you be coming along, Frank?"

"No, not at this juncture. Brother Elder," and here he glanced at the leader of the People, "has me working on a project of considerable importance. But I will be with you in real-time, via our secure communications network. You'll both wear body cameras, and have subdermal tracking devices implanted.

"Now. Once thing I need to caution you both about. Just because this base appears to be deserted, doesn't mean that it is. The degenerate creatures you encountered in the Catskills, need not be unique to that region alone. In fact, the phenomenon may well be world-wide. Plus, there could easily be other…complications. We have to try to foresee as many of them as we can. And that's where I come in.

"Tactically speaking, the best time to strike at you is on one of these missions. Yes, we have extraction teams, but the very covert nature of the operation means opportunity for our enemies. When you're at school, everybody knows where you are. But when you're on a mission, we're your only connection to any help. And we can't always be right there, otherwise, we'd just send in a full division and not have to bother with this secret agent process.

"So you'll both have to be on your guard, doubly so. Ms. Simone, I don't think I have to tell you to watch Cal's back. And likewise, Cal, I doubt there's anything you wouldn't do for her." Cal just gave him a look. "That's what I thought."

Cal rubbed his hands together briskly. "When do we depart?"

….

The People's private jet flew Cal and Kris to a private airstrip in Australia. Cal wasn't surprised to see it surrounded by desert. This was, after all, the Outback.

It also helped matters that, since this was a private flight to a private airstrip, Kris had been able to bring her arsenal with her. "Let's see," she said, absently, "do I wanna go with the shotgun, or the rifle?" She'd already loaded and holstered her Glock. "Which do you think, Cal?"

He quirked a smile behind her back. This was becoming an old routine with them. "The rifle. Definitely the rifle."

"Mmmmm, nah. Close quarters. The shotgun it is." Cal knew if he'd chosen the shotgun, she'd have found some reason to select the rifle.

Kris unpacked and loaded her shotgun. It was a twelve-gauge Remington 870, with a shortened barrel, extended magazine, and shell holder wrapped around the stock. She slipped extra shells into the pockets of her jacket, along with extra loaded magazines for her 9mm. Together, they went outside to greet their contact.

Their native guide proved to be a very dark-skinned young man, squatting by the runway. He stood up as they approached. "Ah," he said, "You must be Cal and Kris. I've heard a lot about you two."

"Yes, that's us," responded Cal, a bit surprised that the aborigine should know about them already. "I don't believe I've the honor….?"

The man smiled, his teeth flashing white against the darkness of his skin. "I'm Kaiya. I'm to guide you to your destination." He gestured towards a Jeep sitting by the runway. "Shall we be going? Or do you need time to freshen up first?"

….

Arkham: Aidoann was on the phone with her mother, and had told her about Cal's mother's disappearance. Her mum was, of course, shocked, and sympathetic. Yes, the Oracle would be happy to examine this article of apparel Mrs. Michaels had worn, but she couldn't guarantee results. _"But we've a new assignment for you, Aidoann. You'll be receiving an email with a confirmation number on it. That number will get you a flight to Australia. There appears t' be some doin's down there."_

"Australia, mum? A wee bit far away."

_"True, but necessary. Reports indicate enemy activity in an old abandoned base there. We're sendin' you the coordinates now. You're to find out everything you can about the place, and in particular secure any artifacts you may run across. I know that may not be easy for you," she continued, "but 'tis verra' necessary. Even if you canna bring back anything in particular, you are to scan and photograph it extensively. I'm sendin' you a camera with an automatic upload, so any pictures you take will be transmitted ri' back here almost immediately."_

"But, mum, what, exactly, am I lookin' for? It would help to know."

_"There's a rumor that this base once belonged to a race of alien beings who fought the Old Ones, and managed to hold 'em off, through some sort of weaponry they'd developed. I doon't suppose I need t' tell you how important it is we get our hands on such tech, if it exists."_

"Of…of course not, mum." A weapon that was effective against the Old Ones? That would be a godsend. "Verra' well. I'll leave first chance I can."

…..

The jeep had no air conditioning.

Cal, Kris and Kaiya bounced along the bumpy roads that were more like hopeful trails than roads. Kaiya was driving, and seemed to know all the ends and outs of these barely-visible trails. "So," he shouted back into the back seat where they were seated, "You two are from Arkham?"

"Yes." _Bounce, bump, bounce._

Kaiya pointed his thumb at himself. "Harvard man, myself. Loved the states. But this is home. Besides. Being a guide pays pretty darn well."

"Uhm, I'm sure…."

"Where we're going isn't really that far off the beaten path. But it's certainly not an area where tourists flock to. Plus," here he smiled a conspiratorial smile, "it's rumored to be haunted. Naturally. But even the most non-superstitious will avoid it, especially tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Bunyip moon."

"What's that?"

"Local bogeyman. You wander away from the village, don't come back…the bunyip got you. You know. But what it means in practicality is, this is an excellent night to work undisturbed."

…..

Aidoann's flight arrived at Melbourne, checking her laptop in the airport's lounge. Already, there was an email for her: a map to the abandoned alien base. She rented a car and, after determining the exact location of the site, typed it into the rental's GPS system. She didn't even wait to freshen up from her long flight. She had a hunch, before it was all over, she'd end up changing into her alternate self, becoming, once again, the Fire of Hastur. She could never have said just how she knew this, but know it she did.

That meant she had to pay close attention to every detail, photograph everything with the specialized camera her mum had sent her. Should she have to transform, it could easily be sudden, and then, of course, she'd lose the camera. For perhaps the millionth time she wished she had an outfit that wouldn't burn up when she changed. But then she smiled to herself; even if the costume didn't burn, anything on or in it would, so its sole purpose would be to keep her clothed after transforming back. Of course, that alone would make it worthwhile.

Something in the back of her mind told her the alien base wasn't as deserted as everyone seemed to think.

Besides, she wanted to get this mission over with and get back to Arkham. If she couldn't go home just yet, she preferred to be with her new friends, Cal and Kris. Already she missed them…

The road trip was long and uneventful, Aidoann stopping every so often to fuel up. Although heat didn't bother her, she'd dressed for the dry, hot climate, with blue jeans, floppy straw hat, and a conservative halter top. She was conscious of some stares from many men, and frowned disapprovingly, even as she knew it was to be expected. While Aidoann wasn't particularly vain, she did have a realistic appraisal of herself, and wasn't ignorant of human behavior in general. So she guessed a few stares were to be expected. Still, it seemed a bit degrading. Was she just a piece of meat?

_Cal_ had never looked at her like that. Cal was better than that.

Onward she drove, towards the hidden base.

…

"Right through here," Kaiya directed them, torch in hand. An actual, flaming torch served two purposes: it provided light, and also indicated air currents. Of course, they all had the standard high-intensity flashlights, and Kris once again was carrying (but not wearing) her night-vision goggles.

He guided them through a cleft in a rocky outcropping, which led to a series of surprisingly large caves. He led them down a series of suspiciously level ramps evidently cut from the rock itself, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the cavern. After about the fifth flight of stone ramps, well past any point any casual tourist might have come, Cal began to notice signs of previous occupancy.

There were huge rooms obviously cut out from the rock, turning a series of natural caves into a kind of monstrous apartment complex, with enormous triangular holes for doors. Evidently, the Great Race hadn't had any concept of privacy, and, equally evidently, had been a good deal larger than human. Cal could spot what appeared to be shelves, also cut from the rock (and how had they done that?), rooms partitioned off with tables (also cut from solid rock), and many other signs that intelligent beings had once lived here.

They scanned the apartments carefully; there was no sign of any sort of book, crystal, or other artifact that might be of any interest to humans. Just rock, rock, and more rock. Cal thought it odd, however, that there was no sign of any animal infestation. He'd have suspected something, snakes, spiders, insects of some sort. But the levels they explored were as barren of life as a tomb.

Kaiya led them ever downward. At one level, he stopped, hesitated. "Now, I should tell you, there's a trapdoor in the lowest level." He shrugged. "To be honest, no one knows where it leads to—_I_ certainly don't-, but it may be what you're looking for." Soon they arrived at a large expanse of emptiness, with Kaiya's torch flickering. "Down there." He shoved the torch towards the gaping hole, which resembled an open manhole cover more than it did a "trap door," and showed them how the flame flickered in the draft from the open hole. Cal noticed a large, heavy-looking disk of rock nearby, perhaps intended as a cover for this aperture. "Something down there. There must be some connection to the upper world, for there to be a draft. But no one's ever gone any farther than this."

"Then this is it." They'd carefully searched the upper levels; there was nothing there to be found, although Cal was certain he'd seen some places that looked as though they'd recently been disturbed. But by who? Their guide, Kaiya, swore that the locals never came here, and the entrance to the caves were such as to discourage casual spelunkers. It felt like something was wrong, somehow. Something was off, but he didn't know what.

He'd shifted into his "Kid Kthulhu" form some time ago. The dry air didn't bother him like he'd thought it would. "So down we go, I guess."

"Are you sure about this?" asked Kaiya, concern in his voice. "After all, everything points to these upper areas as being where the Great Race dwelt, when they were here. The lower levels….nobody knows much about them, but it's doubtful the Great Race had anything to do with it. Whatever you're looking for would have to be up here, wouldn't it?

"Also, I said something was down there. It's true there is a draft coming from below, but that does not necessarily mean the other end of that draft is anywhere close. It could be hundreds of miles away."

"If it is, then it is. There's no help for it. Kris?"

"Right with ya, Kid."

Cal turned to Kaiya. "We'll go down, have a look around. You stay up here, guard the entrance, okay? If there's nothing to be found anywhere close by, we'll just have to think of something else."

They unfurled a rope ladder and Cal cautiously made his way down it, every sense alert for some sign of life. He could see Kris, shotgun slung over her shoulder, following him down.

The actual floor of the area below wasn't that far down. Cal was surprised to find a floor only a few meters below the aperture above.

Kris jumped down beside him, already unlimbering her shotgun, night vision goggles already in place, giving her a masked-like appearance. "See anything?" She knew Cal's senses should have no trouble penetrating the stygian darkness of the cavern below. Her own artificially enhanced vision wasn't revealing anything.

"No—oh, wait a moment. There's something over there-*" But he was interrupted by a scraping, grating sound from above. Looking up, they both saw the opening into the upper levels being covered up, what little light there was being cut off. "What!" He jumped back for the rope ladder, only to have it fall at his feet as the stone disk was moved into place overhead, cutting off all light altogether.

"Cal?"

Cal did a very slow burn. "Sonuvabitch. I think, Kris, that we've just been betrayed. That rat bastard just stranded us down here with no way back up."

…

Aidoann found herself at the same rocky outcropping Cal and Kris had been directed to only an hour before. But there was already a jeep parked outside. Could someone else be looking for the same thing? Unlikely. But this could easily be a park ranger's vehicle. No worries; she had a cover story prepared for just such an eventuality.

Now if her information was accurate…yes! There was a way into the underground caverns right through here…..

As she slipped and squeezed past the stony obstacles in her way, she kept photographing everything imaginable, secure in the knowledge that it was all being uploaded to the cloud storage, where the Family could go over them in minute detail. She switched on her body mic, so as to provide them with a running commentary.

Her flashlight revealed several ramps headed downwards into the Earth. Cautiously, she made her way down them, being careful to keep photographing everything she saw, no matter how miniscule it might seem.

She was in between verbal reports when she rounded a corner, and came face to face with a dark-skinned man, obviously an aborigine. "What? Who are you?" He asked, startled.

She straightened up. "I'm with Professor Brody's archeological group. Am I the first?" She presented him with the false ID the Family had provided her. He glanced at it, his mind obviously elsewhere. "I take it that's _yuir_ vehicle, out front? Who might _you_ be?"

"Uh, park ranger. And yeah, you're the first." Something about the man set off some alarms in Aidoann's mind; something wasn't right here. Since when did park rangers rummage around in the deep caverns of the Earth?

Her suspicions fully active, Aidoann deliberately turned away from him. "Well, then, I'd best be seein' to settin' up for the rest, when they arrive."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of the knife, and with a skill born of long, hard practice, dodged the downstroke, twisting the blade out of the man's grip, and flinging him over her shoulder onto the ground in front of her. "My, my. Apparently, park rangers in these parts take their jobs _verra_ seriously, indeed." She was still holding onto his arm, her foot on his shoulder. "Would you be wantin' to explain _yuir_self?" And she gave his arm a slight twist, just enough to let him know what was in store in case he decided not to talk.

But he just thrashed for a moment, then his face went slack, eyes rolling up to the top of his skull, and went limp. Aidoann released him. There was no longer any need. Sleeper agent, she thought. Standard practice for the Silent Eternal Ones: once an agent had been compromised, they simply "turned off" the brain inside the body, leaving nothing to interrogate. The body was no longer any good, as the implantation process could only be done once per.

But she had a hunch he hadn't been down here alone. And so she followed the ramps downward, ever downward….

….

"Keep firing, Kris!" Cal shouted above the deafening din. They hadn't gone more than three hundred yards before they'd been met with a horde of Martense-like creatures, every single one of which seemed dedicated to pulling down the duo. Cal's magic echoed throughout the chamber, as did the roar of Kris's shotgun.

"Told you I should'a brought the rifle! But you were all like nooOOOooo…." More thunderous shots sounded as she blew the nearest of the degenerate creatures away.

"Get behind me, Kris! You'll run out of ammo, at this rate! We need a defensible position to fall back to!" His own magical bolts served to fry many of the degenerate creatures that had crowded too close, and his greater physical strength accounted for the ones who'd been foolish enough to close with him.

"Behind you, _hell._ I'm _beside_ you, Cal, and don't forget it!" The battle was complicated by the fact that they were fighting in a large, open area without a wall to back up against, leaving the creatures the option of coming at them from all directions. Which they were altogether too eager to do.

He heard her shotgun run dry, and she grabbed her Glock, picking off the nearer creatures with carefully aimed but rapid shots. One got too close for comfort; she shoved a knife into its forehead, sent it reeling back. Another she slashed at, even while counting off each shot…

Cal's "water bullets," as he called them, accounted for a good many of the creatures, and he sent them zipping through the pack surrounding them. He was trying to come up with a plan whereby they'd guard each other's backs when he heard a sound he'd hoped he'd never hear: Kris's shriek as she ran completely out of ammo. In the space of a heartbeat, the monsters had swarmed over her, overwhelming her.

"_Get away from her!"_ Heedless of his own safety, Cal fought his way towards the small knot of creatures that had covered Kris, spearing some with his hard-water bullets, while just overpowering others. Individually, they weren't very strong.

But just as he was about to reach Kris, the entire pack, it seemed, turned its attention to him, and swarmed him, driving him away from her. He fought like a maniac to get to Kris; the Martense creatures were, after all, man-eaters, a thought that sent chills up and down his spine.

But just as fast as they'd descended upon them, the ape-like creatures withdrew, taking Kris with them, leaving him standing there in that vast empty space, amongst the dead, alone.

….

Aidoann had come to the huge stone disk over the aperture leading downward into the bowels of the Earth. According to her maps, this was the place….but somebody had put a big damn _rock_ over it.

Normally, this wouldn't prove a problem for the Fire of Hastur, but she was in an enclosed space. She didn't dare risk bringing the entire cavern system down on her. Fortunately, she didn't have to.

She concentrated, and very carefully ignited one finger and, using it as a cutting torch, carefully and precisely began to cut away at chunks of the covering stone…

Cal searched frantically. He was very afraid Kris was dead. Dead or worse.

But each time he'd caught sight of any more Martense-like creatures, they'd deftly avoided him, escaping through hidden tunnels that not even his sight could detect, until they slipped into them.

He tried in vain to trace her via the comm units they were carrying, but this far under the Earth, none of them worked. Nonetheless, he had some slight inkling as to the general direction…he'd transformed into his "Kid Kthulhu" form for maximum power and control, and now made his way towards the areas the map he'd seen had indicated were likely to be the largest.

He remembered what Brother Tanis had told him, about being able to kill by commanding all the water in an organism to withdraw from that organism, and was more than tempted. Trouble was, he didn't know if he'd catch Kris in the backlash or not. The chance that he might was the only thing that kept him from annihilating the entire brood of monsters down here once and for all.

Aidoann dropped down her own rope ladder into the underground caverns. Immediately, she saw the bodies of the degenerate ape-like things, recognizing them for what they were. Evidently, somebody had certainly come this way. Whoever it was, had managed to best the creatures, for theirs were the only bodies to be seen. But now which way to go?

There were several branching corridors off to her left. Choosing one at random, she set her first flare marker down, and moved off into the darkness, her own nightvision goggles showing her the way.

Cal had been provided with a map, of sorts, taken from orbit by a deep-scan radar, showing a series of underground tunnels. The map didn't go far, and mostly dealt with the upper tunnels, but there was some information on the ones below.

He knew that whatever he was looking for—wherever Kris had been taken—would probably have to accommodate some fairly large structures or forms. The Martense creatures were somewhat smaller than human, and, accustomed as they were to living underground, in warrens, didn't usually require much space. But the Silent Eternal Ones were larger and more used to larger spaces. Plus, they'd have sizable machines to accommodate.

Cal didn't like to think what those machines could do to his friend. What they might already be doing to her.

For the fourth time, he swore by all he held holy, that if she'd been harmed in any way, he'd drain every last drop of water from every living thing down here. He'd make Hiroshima look like a moderate response by comparison.

Aidoann encountered the first of the Martense creatures three turns and five corridors down. They immediately moved to attack. "Here I go, mum," she said. She knew transforming would sever their connection until she could reach her backup equipment.

The brilliant flash of light and heat took the monsters by surprise, throwing them back, and sending most scurrying away. But some force seemed to drive the others onward to attack even the Fire of Hastur—a suicidal gesture, to be sure. Why would they be ordered to do that? What could they stand to gain by it?

Even as she incinerated the first wave, she still concentrated on looking around the various cavernous chambers here below the Earth's surface. They all showed evidence of deliberate, intelligent planning, even though she could see no doors or other mechanisms such as humans might employ. In several she saw huge tables, cut from the solid rock, and what looked like it might have been shelving at one time. There were no signs of other mechanisms.

The Martense creatures kept coming. Some force, some power was compelling them to sacrifice themselves in large numbers. Why?

Cal had finally come upon an area that began to look more recently used. The Martense creatures scuttled away, scurrying off down the corridor. It might've been his imagination, but he thought he could smell smoke.

Then he rounded a corner and spied Aidoann, in full bloom of glory, incinerating hordes of the monsters, even as more leapt upon her.

Quickly, he formed "ropes" of condensed, hardened water, lassoing the misbegotten creatures, and hauling them back. The ones foolish or compelled enough to actually be within ten yards of her were already ashes, but he could pull the rest off. Then she spied him.

"_You!"_ She spat. "I might've known! Call off _yuir_ pets, before I incinerate the lot 'o them, and you as well!"

"They're not mine! Something's making them attack us both!"

She fell into combat stance. "Sssuurrre. O' course. Yer just an innocent bystander who _just so happened_ to be in th' way!"

"I don't have time for this, Aidoann!" He saw an expression of shock come over her face; perhaps he'd been hasty in revealing that he knew who she was. But no matter now. "I'm looking for my friend! I don't want to fight you, but if you don't get out of my way, I'll carve my way right through you!"

Her fiery features settled into a grimace of determination. "You mean you'll _trry._"

A stream of solid fire shot from her hands directly at him. But Cal hadn't been practicing for nothing: with a thought, he condensed the moisture in the air, forming it into a shield in front of him. Aidoann's fire hit it dead-on, and immediately sizzled it into live steam.

But steam is still water, and still obeyed Cal's command, moving, shifting, carrying off the heat from her fire-blast, recondensing and reforming into an ever-renewing buffer between him and the agent of Hastur.

He summoned water from the air around her, wrapping her in wetness, causing her fire to steam and sizzle. It didn't go out, but it did produce a heavy cloud of steam that made it hard for her to see him.

On the other hand, he could see her just fine.

He didn't want to hurt her. Waves of airborne water struck her from all sides, and she dodged back down the very hallway she'd just come from. But she wasn't so easily dealt with: slamming her hands on the ground, she summoned her Fire into a carpet of flame, jetting over the stony flooring towards him.

He levitated up to avoid being roasted alive, and continued with his water attack, confusing and enraging her. Again and again he hit her with water, all the while keeping his guard up. He didn't know what her upper limit was, but he had a hunch she could probably outlast him…

At that precise moment, the first Silent Eternal One came around the corner behind Aidoann, surrounded by a legion of Martense creatures. _"Duck!"_ he yelled, focusing a thin, extremely hard stream of water on the roof of the cavern behind her, the force of the water cutting into the stone like a torch. Aidoann reflexively rolled for cover, even as she saw the fungoid creature. Her eyes widened. Why was this Deep One fighting the Elder Things?

Well, why not? The Silent Eternal Ones were no one's friends. But she turned and took a quick, closer look at her adversary…

A pulpy-seeming head over a more or less anthropomorphic body clad in a shapeless grey coverall-type garment with a winged "K" symbol on his chest, with the hands—the only other visible skin area—reflecting the same greenish hue, giving the impression of tentacles rather than fingers, and with some very rudimentary wings springing forth from his shoulder blades, he nonetheless didn't really look like any of the diagrams or drawings of Deep Ones she'd ever seen. A new subspecies, perhaps? But she'd never heard of any Deep One with the power this one had. Or wings of any kind. "If yuir thinkin' ta trick me wi' _that_ old _rr_outine…."

But he'd re-alighted upon the floor, feet apart, eyes glowing, tentacular hands clenched in front of him. "I don't give a good _goddamn_ about tricking you right now! I just wanna find my friend! _Now get out of my way!_"

And something slammed into them both, from behind.

….

"Brother Elder? I thought you should know: we've lost contact with the special agent. And orbital sensors are picking up considerable sigma activity in that area."

Brother Elder hesitated. This being international territory, sending in an extraction team would almost be like declaring war. It would certainly reveal the existence of the People to other nations of the world. Cal and Kris were truly on their own. "No contact? Even on the theta wavelengths?"

"None, sir. And the sigma activity…"

"I understand." He clicked off the communicator, and turned to the Fantastic Battle Brain. "Your thoughts?"

"The obvious. Our team has met serious opposition. Hopefully, it's _only_ the Scots girl. But if it's both her _and_ the Spawn of Ygdrll…" He left the matter hanging.

"Have you any recommendations?" The Fantastic Battle Brain had been given a blank check to come up with any new device or principle that might give the People an edge in this war.

"If we can pinpoint the exact place of activity, I believe I have something that might at least give our people an escape hatch. But a lot depends upon what's actually transpiring now."

…

Both Cal and Aidoann picked themselves up from the floor, their attention drawn to the group of Silent Eternal Ones standing at the far end of the corridor. The one in the lead was holding what looked at first glance like an old-style photographer's camera, only several times bigger. "What…."

"Get _down,_ Aidoann!" Desperately, Cal summoned up a water-shield, keeping it between them and the enemy.

An enemy that moved closer, all the while readying the strange apparatus for what was clearly intended to be another shot.

_This must be what we were supposed to retrieve,_ thought Cal. _The remnants of the Great Race must've left something here the Elder Things could back engineer, recreate the weapons they used against the Old Ones._ Perhaps that was the reason behind the attacks of the Martense creatures: to hold them in one place long enough for the Elder Things to bring their new toy into play. "Aidoann, get out of here! Go on!"

"Last time I checked, I wasna' takin' orders from the likes o' you! And how d'ye know my name, anyway?"

"That's not important right now! Just get out! That device is what the Great Race used on the Old Ones! I'm sure it'll do a number on us, too!"

"No' if I 'do a number' on _them_ first!" And Aidoann send a stream of fire down the hallway at the approaching monstrosities.

A stream of fire that faded out before it ever reached them. They both stared in amazement. It wasn't like the flame had hit a wall or force field; it had simply vanished, as though turning a corner no one could see.

"Aidoann!" Cal hissed, "_Get outta here!_ If my friend's been killed or, or harmed, I'm gonna turn this place into one giant grave! You have to leave, _now!_"

Aidoann was still trying to wrap her head around the concept of a Deep One—a _Deep One,_ no less—who _actually seemed to care_ about someone else. "Y'would lay down yuir life for yuir friend?" The monsters at the other end of the hallway moved closer, the Elder Thing holding the camera-like projector readying it for another shot.

"In a heartbeat."

A smile quirked Aidoann's fiery features. "Then the Fire of Hastur stands with you, son of the Water." She nodded towards the approaching horrors. "Though I dinna' think we'll either of us be standin' for long." She paused and evaluated the situation. Then, "You. You go search down _tha'_ way. I'll delay this lot here."

"Get yourself to safety, Aidoann! This is my job, anyway, and I don't wanna see you get hurt!"

Now she paused for just a moment, looking at him intensely. "Do we _know_ each other?" Even though his form and voice were radically different, there was something _familiar_ about him, about his mannerisms, his way of speech, the way he seemed to know her….

"Doesn't matter. Okay. But first chance you get, draw them away, and make a break for the surface. Promise me that. I'll find K-* I'll find my friend." And an expression of grim determination recognizable even on his alien face settled in. "If she's been harmed in any way….well, let's just say, this whole place is gonna be ground zero. Don't be here when it is." And with that, he dashed off down the corridor. Aidoann watched him go, curious. He reminded her of-*

But no, surely not. That was crazy.

_Crack!_ Something like an invisible lightning bolt slammed into her, knocking her back, her fire protecting her. She rolled, got to her feet, and once again faced the oncoming monsters.

She couldn't attack them directly; she'd seen they had some kind of shield or field of deflection. But she could heat up the walls and floors.

Directing her energies into the rock around her, she began pumping as many ergs of pure thermal energy as she could. The lead Elder Thing was raising the projector for another blast…and she burned a way beneath the stony floor, burrowing beneath it, all the while keeping on heating up the surrounding rock walls. Already, they were glowing red hot, and the Martense creatures were howling in agony as they fried where they stood. The Spawn of Ygdrll wavered, clearly affected, but unwilling to back down. It dropped the projector—she could hear it clanging down the hallway—and wished, for the umpteenth time, that she had some way of retrieving it. But in her condition, it would most likely melt.

No matter. She had to make for the surface. It occurred to her that she ought to check in on that strange Deep One, the one who didn't seem like the others.

Aidoann pushed her fire upwards through the floor of the cavern, incinerating the three Silent Eternal Ones there still there. Whatever shielding mechanism they had didn't seem to work on threats from below. That made a kind of sense; the shield couldn't very well be employed usefully on whatever they were standing on. The Martense creatures were nowhere to be seen; either they'd been fried or had finally overcome the power of the Spawn and run away.

Now. Which way did that strange Deep One go?

Cal had fought his way past several dozen Martense creatures, who had suddenly developed a desire to impede his progress. He smiled grimly. That only indicated he was on the right track.

There. There was a large, lighted room off to the left. It reminded him of a hospital radiology lab—and his heart skipped a beat when he remembered the Elder Things propensity for transplanting brains.

If Kris had been…if Kris was no long Kris, he swore he'd make them _all_ pay.

He smashed his way into the room, noting its resemblance to an MRI chamber. Kris's nude body lay limply on the gurney, a cloth wrapped around her head, and her head up inside the torus. He could detect no machines in operation, no energies that he could tell being used.

Whipping off his cape, he sprang to her, wrapping her naked form in the cloak, and pulling her out of the machine. He breathed a sigh of relief when her head emerged from the torus: she didn't seem to be harmed. But in the next instant, he remembered that the science of the Elder Things was light-years beyond anything humans were familiar with. Any….procedure….might already have been accomplished.

_No. Please, let it not be._ Then he heard Aidoann's voice coming from outside, and gritted his teeth in frustration. Couldn't the girl take a hint? But he covered Kris's face up just in time.

Aidoann burst into the chamber. "That's her? You've found her?"

He turned to the agent of Hastur. "I…I hope it's her, Aidoann. You know how the Silent Eternal Ones do. How they…transplant brains. I only hope it's her." He seemed so miserable that Aidoann almost forgot for a moment that he was the enemy…

"But we've got to get out of here. This whole thing was a trap from the get-go. And we're too far underground to just blast our way out-*"

"Speak for yuirself!"

"*-without bringing the whole mountain down on top of us, or using up all the oxygen in the place. I-*" Then they both felt a subtle shudder, something like an earthquake, but building, becoming not so much a shaking of the earth as a steady, growing vibration throughout the rock walls around them. It seemed to be coming from above. They both looked up in alarm as loose dirt and a few rocks fell down from overhead. "But we have to get out of here, somehow, anyway." By unspoken agreement, they both headed back towards the tunnel where they'd both entered, even as the shaking vibration grew stronger. Cal had a hunch what it was.

And he needed to ditch Aidoann, somehow, at some point. As soon as he got clear of the communicator-dampening underground, the People would no doubt be sending in someone to pick them up, and while he could imagine worse things than a pitched battle between the People's own extraction team and Aidoann, he had to try really hard to do so.

According to the map he'd memorized, there was a large open space behind them, one that had probably served the Great Race, in its day, as a geothermal power sink. The roof of the cavern, the mountain overhead, would be thinnest there. He'd heard Frank talk about a "vibration bomb," a device that didn't so much explode all at once as a small piece at a time, setting up harmonic frequencies in whatever medium it was active in. If the People were trying to get to them, carve them a way out, that's how they'd do it. And where.

But there was also the danger they'd bring the unstable geological structure down upon their heads. But it beat the alternative.

So they had to go to a place a bit further away from the epicenter of the bomb, then hope the roof over them didn't cave in, then make their way back to the opened up area for pickup. But what to do about Aidoann?

He carried Kris's unconscious body back down along the corridor from whence they'd come. Aidoann was right behind him, a position that made him uncomfortable. "Down this way. Our…organization's probably sending a pickup team to get us." He knelt down by a rocky wall near the entrance where they'd come in, still cradling Kris in his arms.

"Who _are_ you people?"

"Now, Aidoann, you know I can't tell you anything. But I can tell you one thing: I'm your friend. And as a friend, I'm telling you you need to vacate the premises before our people get here." They were in the large area where they'd first encountered the Martense creatures. Cal looked up. "You cut your way in. Good. Go on that way, and we'll get with our people, once that way is clear…there's no point in you meeting with them now, it'd just cause chaos. More chaos, I mean." Still cradling Kris's head. Hoping against hope that when she woke up, it'd be Kris's eyes that looked up at him. Kris's, and not some….thing's. Right then, he couldn't even think straight, so badly was he wanting that. _Please, Kris, be Kris._

Aidoann knelt down in front of him, an expression of wonder on her face. She shifted back to her human form, and sat, naked, in front of him. She put her hands to her mouth. "Cal? Is—is that _you_?"

He sighed, and shifted to his human form. "Yes, Aidoann. It's me. And, and this is—I fervently hope—Kris."

"Oh. My. _God_." Aidoann sat in shock, staring at him. It probably hadn't yet registered with her than she was naked. For that matter, Cal himself barely noticed.

But now he undid the cloth from around Kris's head, slapping her cheeks, trying to awaken her. "C'mon, Kris, wake up." _And please be Kris when you do._

"I canna believe this….all this time?" Her voice hardened. "You…you deceived me!"

"No, Aidoann, we didn't, any more than you tried to deceive us. We just each had secrets to keep. But I don't think it's a good idea for you to meet up with our group just yet. You really need to go." He was having chills thinking about the fiery Aidoann meeting up with Brother Elder.

Hearing the oncoming team, Aidoann's resolve weakened. It was true that now might not be the best time. "But we _will_ haveta talk abou' this, an' _soon."_

Helicopters had come a long way since the days of Vietnam and Afghanistan, and the People's especially so. Within each one was an area of balanced sound, that deftly neutralized the steady chop of the blades outside, so that passengers could converse without having to shout. And Cal clung to Kris the entire way, not even letting the medics take her from him.

Finally, her eyes fluttered, and she stirred in his grip. "Kris?" _Please…._

Her gaze faltered, focused on him, then slipped away before coming back. Her voice was very weak, and he had to lean over her to hear what she was saying, even in the "silenced" area of the copter's passenger area: "T-told you…capes…were c-cool…" Then she passed right out again.

But to Cal, those were the most beautiful words he'd ever heard.

_To be continued…_


	16. Chapter 16: Repairs And Talks

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 16: Repairs. And Talks.

…

_For those of you following this story, or just now coming across this, you really need to check into Thomas Perkins' deviantart posts of "Kid Kthulhu" retro comics covers. If we deluge him with enough messages, maybe a full comic will be forthcoming!_

…_._

Chapter 16: Repairs. And Talks.

Innsmouth: Kris had been given a clean bill of health by the doctors who'd examined her. Whatever the Silent Eternal Ones had planned for her, they hadn't had the chance to do.

She was sitting with Cal in the cafeteria next to the Gilman House. Like the hotel, the front of the restaurant was a dodge: a deliberately designed set that conveyed an air of disrepair and neglect, not to mention uncleanliness. Any tourist would think twice before eating here, and three or four times before coming back. But in back….

They were the only ones in the entire cafeteria, and most of the wait staff had gone off shift. Cal had been spending as much time with her as he possibly could, since their return from Australia. Kris was presently busy trying to get outside of as much coffee as possible. Innsmouth coffee was….a little strong.

"So," she began, "it was all a trap, to begin with? A set up?"

"Yeah. Apparently, the guide had been compromised—exactly when, we don't know—and set to lure us into what was, basically, a testing range for one of the Great Race's weapons." He paused, and shuddered for a moment. "Can't believe how _real_ he seemed. How _human,_ I mean."

"I know. I was watching for some sign of, of, something. But there was nothing. He was either extremely well trained or…or it'd been in that body for a long time." More coffee. "Wish you could've brought back one of those things, whatever they were."

"It's okay, Kris." Actually, it hadn't really been all that "okay" with Brother Elder, who'd had some choice words to say about_ the importance of successfully completing the mission, _whereupon Cal had responded with some choice words of his own about the_ importance of rescuing a teammate in trouble._ The conversation had ended with both parties completely unconvinced that the other really understood the _vital_ _importance_ of what they were getting at. "I doubt they were all that big and bad, anyway. I mean, Aidoann and I got hit a couple of times, and we're still here to talk about it. Maybe they needed to fine-tune the things."

Kris colored slightly. "Sorry for flashing you."

He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Oh, don't even start. You were unconscious. I'm just glad you…I'm just glad you're you."

They were silent for a moment. Then, Kris spoke up. "So…Aidoann knows about us, now."

"Yeah. Apparently, maintaining a secret identity is a little trickier than they make it look like, in the comics."

"Wonder what she'll do?"

Frank, the Fantastic Battle Brain, had come in and poured a cup of Innsmouth coffee for himself, joining them. "So, how goes it with you two? Kris? How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Physically, okay. Just glad to've waked up in my own skin. Guess I got Knucklehead here to thank for it." She gave Cal a smile. "But I hate that we came back empty-handed. I mean, we went there to get that old tech, and came back with nothing. I…I guess I feel like it's my fault."

He sipped his coffee. "It wasn't. And it wasn't a total loss. Thanks to the body cameras you both wore—which, by the way, also incorporated some deep scanning systems—I was able to get a good look at the projector. I might be able to duplicate it, just from that." He shrugged. "Of course, as you say, it didn't seem all that effective, though, in use."

"Frank?" Cal asked, "You're the tactician. What do you suppose Aidoann will do now?"

Frank stared at his coffee. "There's a sixty-seven percent probability that she'll be ordered to terminate you, Cal, with extreme prejudice. Remember, her group evidently opposes the Old Ones, to every degree." Pause. "But how she'll actually act…that cannot be predicted."

…

Arkham: Aidoann paced about her apartment, unable to keep still.

Fact: she'd made two good friends (she'd thought) here in the States.

Fact: those same two good friends turned out to work for a rival outfit. And not only that, but the boy, Cal, evidently seemed to be a part of the Deep Ones, biologically.

Had she been lied to? Part of her felt like she had been. But she was honest enough to admit that it was a bit more complicated than that.

Fact: Cal had been the one she fought back at the old church on Federal Hill, in Providence. She was sure of it now. Fact: even though he'd won the fight (and she still winced whenever she thought of that battle), he'd taken her back to the motel room rather than just leave her there in the demolished building. A decidedly non-bad guy-ish thing to do, no matter how you looked at it. And that was before he'd ever met her, actually.

Then he and Kris had befriended her, true. Perhaps for their own reasons. But even though they had to've known about her, they hadn't tried to pump her for information. The closest they'd come was when they'd eaten dinner together, in Cal's home, and had politely inquired about her family. But, really, what else were they supposed to talk about?

She sat down on the couch, running her fingers through her mop of red hair. She knew what her mum would say, were she to tell her about her new friends' true nature. Keep away from them, at the very least.

Would her mum order her to kill Cal? He was, after all, a hybrid Deep One, and an agent of a rival organization. That would mean killing Kris, too, of course. Could she see herself doing that?

Not really. That would make her an assassin, and Aidoann just didn't think she had it in her to do that.

She finally decided that what it boiled down to was, whether or not she'd been lied to. Not told the whole truth, okay, she could deal with that. But if they'd lied to her…there was no basis for any friendship anymore.

The thought saddened her immensely.

….

"Home Sweet Home," murmured Kris, as Cal pulled into the driveway. It was a measure of how close they'd come that she now considered Cal's house to be her own, really. She was considering letting her apartment go, even though she hated to give up that independence, the freedom of _having her own place._ But she was coming to regard Cal's house in the same way.

Maybe she and Cal should talk about that. And…maybe about some other things, as well.

He got out of the car and went around to her side, to help her out. "Honestly, Cal, I'm not a cripple. I'm fine, really." And she stood up, spreading her arms to show him.

He blushed and turned away. "I know, Kris, it's just….I guess what happened scared me. It scared me so much. I was sure they'd…" He couldn't continue.

She came up to him, and put her arms around him. Yep, there were definitely some things they were gonna have to talk about. "Well, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm sorry if I worried you." She'd heard and seen, from the recordings the body cameras had taken, how upset he'd been. How easily he could've lost control. How he nearly did. "Let's go on in."

It was during a rerun of _CSI: Miami_ that the doorbell rang. Cal and Kris both looked at each other and sighed. _Here we go._

Aidoann stood just outside the door, arms crossed over her chest, her expression neutral. "Hello, Aidoann. You're a little late for dinner, but we can scare something up…"

"That's no' why I'm here, an' ye verra well know it. I have ta know some things. Verra important things."

"I…we figured. Would…would you like to come in?" Cal hesitated. The wards Brother Oberon's people had placed around his house were especially designed to ward off malevolent forces. Was Aidoann now one of those forces?

She hesitated herself for a moment. Then, "Verra well." He let her into the living room. Kris joined them, still in the shapeless scrubs outfit she'd worn back from Innsmouth. She hadn't had the chance to change into anything else. "Hey, Aidoann."

"Hello, Kris." Aidoann was very formal. "How are you feelin'?"

"I'm fine, Aidoann. Whatever they were gonna do to me, they didn't do. Probably thanks to you and Mr. Hard Head, here," she smiled at Cal.

"That is verra' good news to me." She turned to Cal, but she included Kris in her stance. "Cal, I haveta know some things."

"You'll have to know 'em over ice cream. Kris? Take Aidoann into the living room. I'll serve. Aidoann?"

The Scots girl just shook her head. "I have to know…how long has this been goin' on?" She put her hands on her hips and looked at them both, a grim expression on her face. "I feel like I've been lied to. I'm hopin' you c'n convince me otherwise."

Both Cal and Kris sighed. "Well, let's go into the living room. Kris, I'll bring you some ice cream. Aidoann? You sure you don't want anything?"

"Dinna try playin good host wi' me!" Aidoann shouted. "Surely y'see how serious this is! You know about me, but I know nothing about you! _Are we enemies? Or are we not?_"

Cal faced her squarely. "Aidoann. Calm down. Do you _really_ think we're your enemies? I mean, like _really?_ Of course not. Now come on. If we considered you an enemy, would I have invited you into my house?

"I think what you're _really_ wondering is whether or not you're _my_ enemy. Isn't that closer to the truth? And that's something I can't answer."

Aidoann seethed, but had to admit he had a point. She didn't know how to feel about these two anymore.

The simplest thing to do would be to turn around and storm off, have nothing further to do with them. If they hadn't actually deceived her, they'd come close. There were such things as lies of omission, after all.

But then, she didn't exactly walk around wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with "I heart Hastur" either, now, did she? "I….I doon't know what to believe, anymore." She actually felt a tear of frustration come into her eye, just then.

Cal looked her in the eyes. "Aidoann, I'll promise you one thing: I've never lied to you, and I never will. I may not be able to tell you everything, the whole truth, but I won't lie about what I can tell you. That's the best I can do."

"And," added Kris, softly, "I think you know us well enough by now to know that neither of us would ever deliberately hurt you. And I don't think you'd hurt either of us. Not willingly.

"Now, would you?"

Aidoann just stood there a moment longer, storm clouds in her expression. Then, without a word, she gathered up her keys and left, getting back in her car and driving off into the soft Arkham night.

Cal let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Well," he observed, "at least the house is still standing."

….

"Mum? Just got back from Australia. M' flight was delayed. Sorry to report tha' I was nae' able to bring back anything. I did see one of the cursed Spawn wieldin' somethin' like y' described, but I was in m' fire form and couldn't bring it back. Did you get the uploads?"

"_Yes, we did. Now, what's ailin' ye, child?"_

"Nothin's wrong, mum, just disappointed wi' myself that I didna get-*"

"_Aidoann, you always were a terrible liar, an' that has nae' changed wi' time. More's goin' on wi' ye than ye're tellin' me. Spill."_

Aidoann sighed. "It's my friends, mum. The ones I was tellin' ye about. They…she's normal enough, but he's an agent of Cthulhu. I didna know that until now."

There was a shocked silence from the other end of the line. _"Have they…has he tried to, to get any information from you, regardin' the Family? Anything of a tactical nature? Ye're not compromised, are ye?"_

"No, mum, he has nae' tried to, to find out anythin' like that. Oh, we talked. About family, an' all. But nothin', nothin' work-related. They've no tried to get any secrets from me. And, and they've known about me, mum." She sat down on the couch, holding the phone to her ear. "Since the first. He was the one I fought, back in Providence. So they've both known about me. But they doon't know about the Family, or, or our…you know."

There was another long silence from the other end. Then, _"Tell me what happened. Tell me everythin'."_

…..

Kris was just putting the dishes up from breakfast, still in her pajamas. It was a Saturday, and neither of them had to be anywhere. This, she thought to herself, might be a good time to…talk.

She found Cal sitting in front of the TV, absently watching the news. There was a report on some disturbance in the Mideast; she was fairly sure he didn't hear a word of it.

_Okay, maybe now's not the best time._ She went over and sat down by him. "What's up? You look like something's bothering you."

For a moment he was silent. Then, "Yeah. Something is.

"I…I'm not sure this whole thing is for me, Kris. I mean, this whole super thing. Super hero, secret agent, whatever you wanna call it. I, I just don't know if I want to, to keep on like this. I mean, you could'a been…hurt! Seriously hurt, Kris! And, and…." He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

She nodded. It was about what she'd expected, and it was bound to happen sooner or later. "Sure, Cal, I understand. So…what I hear you asking is, do you want to quit? Right?"

"Yes." He got up and moved over by the window, a silhouette against the daylight outside.

"Is that even the right question?"

"Huh?"

She sat on the couch, pulling her legs up under her. "I hear what you're saying. But maybe that's not the right question. Maybe what you should be asking yourself is, _can_ you quit?"

"I…don't know what you mean."

"Cal…you've seen how things are. Even assuming Brother Elder and the rest would have no problem with you 'retiring,'" and here she made air quotes with her fingers, "which they very probably would, there remains two simple truths.

"One, you are what you are. You're the son of an old god, basically. If I read it right, that puts you at the top of the food chain as far as the Deep Ones go, just short of Cthulhu himself.

"And two…remember, you didn't get into this for the money or anything. You got into it because you felt like you were needed. That's not gonna change, is it? Plus, what about your enemies, or possible enemies? We have to presume the Silent Eternal Ones know about your civilian identity; now Aidoann and her people do. Aidoann's people may not be actual enemies—yet—but they have to potential to make things hard for you, if they should choose to. Maybe fatally hard. And we know for a fact they know exactly who you are.

"And then there's a more practical matter."

He nodded. "Mom." He came back and rejoined her on the couch.

"Yeah. And Cal…I don't trust Brother Elder any further than I can throw him, but…I really think he's sincere about trying to find her. You notice he's never tried to pretend like it's all out of the goodness of his own heart. But I really think he's sparing no effort to try to locate her."

She turned to him. "Cal…_could_ you quit? Never mind could Superman quit being Superman…could 007 actually retire? Peacefully?

"Could you go about your daily life, go to school, go to work…all the while knowing what you know? Knowing how things are? What was it Spider-man always said? 'With great power…'"

"'…comes great responsibility.'" He sighed. "Yeah, Kris, I know. I just…maybe I'm just getting cold feet about…things." _Like about you getting hurt…or worse._

She could read his thoughts almost without effort. It was just a tad insulting—after all, she'd _chosen_ to side with him, to stand with him against the horrors the universe had to offer, she didn't need anybody holding her hand—but at the same time, it was…kinda sweet. In a patronizing sort of way.

And…way back before any of this had actually gotten started, hadn't _she_ railed at _him_ for getting himself involved in the war between the People and the Silent Eternal Ones, fearful he'd end up dead or worse? She'd been afraid he couldn't take care of himself, either. That she'd lose him. She guessed that, too, was a little patronizing…on her part. Oh, but that was different, of course.

Except for the parts where it wasn't.

And…all that pointed inexorably to the unavoidable fact that they were starting to mean more to each other than just good friends. Cal, with the typical male blindness to such things, hadn't noticed, of course.

But she had.

She crept a little closer, putting her hand underneath his arm. "Cal…maybe…maybe there are some things we need to talk about…." And right then, his cell phone chimed.

Irritated (but oddly relieved, for reasons he wouldn't have been able to describe had his life depended on it), he glanced at his phone. "Hello? Yes, sir. No, just sitting here with Kris, watching TV."

"_Mr. Michaels. We have need of your services. It seems something has happened to one of our employees, there in Arkham."_

"Oh? What?"

"_He came home the other night and attacked his wife. Scratched and bit her severely; she naturally locked herself and the children in a bathroom, called the authorities, and waited while they subdued him. He was completely unmanageable; they ended up having to shoot him."_

"Er…I'm sorry to hear that, sir, but…this doesn't really sound like something you normally have me look into."

"_There's one factor I failed to mention, one that puts the whole matter into a rather different area of the realm of the 'strange.'_

"_You see, his wife had buried him two days before."_

_To be continued…_


	17. Chapter 17: Dead and Buried

Kid Kthulhu: the Awakening: Chapter 17: Dead and Buried

….

_Anyone who hasn't already seen Thomas Perkins' retro comics covers for "Kid Kthulhu" on Deviantart doesn't know what they're missing. They are the inspiration for this story; please check them out!_

…_.._

"Thank you, Dr. Overmeyer, for seeing us on such short notice."

"Not a problem, young man. I understand how teachers can be, particularly when deadlines are involved." Dr. Henry Overmeyer couldn't have been over thirty, and was probably a good deal younger than that. Cal had read his file, sent by Brother Elder: a medical protégé, he'd achieved remarkable status by age twenty, and had made many strides in the study of the human genome. Many of his papers periodically appeared in the journals of the CDC and the AMA, and it was rumored that he was closing in on a broad-spectrum cancer cure.

His high rank amongst his colleagues was belied by his appearance: a slightly built man of average height, soft brown hair, large, rimless glasses in front of guileless blue eyes that looked out at the world with a perpetually bemused expression, as though eternally wondering just exactly where he was today, had he forgotten anything, and whether or not he should take an umbrella.

But there was no denying the sharp mind behind those eyes. If anyone could answer their questions without being shackled by the legalities of working for the investigative authorities themselves, it would be him.

"Yes, sir. Well, as I said over the phone, we're doing a paper on forensics. I understand you've assisted the police in these matters, in the past."

"Yes, I have." Dr. Overmeyer grimaced slightly. "Not exactly my field of choice, you understand. I'd much rather deal with the living. But necessity… Yes, the coroner has asked for my expertise in light of some…recent happenings."

"Yes, sir. The, ah, thing with Mr. Williams…."

Overmeyer put his feet on the floor, a look of exasperation on his face. "You do understand I'm speaking off the record, right? Even though, at this time, there really isn't any sort of criminal case actually going on."

"No…criminal case?"

"Well, technically, no. Mr. Williams—or whoever, whatever he became, or however you choose to think of it—actually broke no law. There is nothing that says a man can't dig his way up out of the ground, and, since the succession hadn't been finalized yet, couldn't be said to have unlawfully broken into the house he broke into. He still owned it. I guess you could see how that complicates things a bit. Of course, disturbing the peace, assaulting his wife—but that's more in the realm of a domestic dispute than a true crime, as such. Taken altogether, the case is bizarre, but the individual components don't really total up to a crime. Of course, this isn't to downplay the terrible trauma Mrs. Williams, and her children, endured. It's very much like one of those cable television shows, only, so far, it's limited to just one person."

"Dr. Overmeyer," Kris spoke up for the first time, "since we're speaking off the record…you are of course aware that this…incident pretty much has the whole town abuzz. What, exactly, do you think happened?"

Overmeyer shrugged. "In the absence of any ongoing criminal investigation, I suppose I can speak more freely than otherwise. I was called in to examine the body. It was most assuredly, and quite thoroughly dead, and had every reason to be, having been shot several times." He shook his head. "I can only imagine what that poor woman went through, having to identify her husband, seeing him dead."

"But he was dead before, wasn't he?"

Overmeyer shook his head in negation. "No. Not in my opinion. _Dead_, by definition, is a permanent condition. One doesn't return from it. No, my personal belief—which I can't prove, as I wasn't on the case prior to this—was that Williams wasn't dead when they buried him the first time."

"Not dead? But how…?" Cal and Kris looked at each other.

"There are cases of premature burial. Some disease processes can result in such a drastic reduction of vital signs that a person can be mistaken for dead, even buried…and then awaken, deep underground. There used to be more such cases, before the advent of modern medical practices, such as embalming. And, of course, that's the thing, isn't it? So before you ask, I'll only say one thing: evidently Mr. Williams _wasn't_ properly embalmed to begin with, else all this would never have happened. And, needless to add, waking up under such…circumstances…would certainly have a negative impact on one's sanity, even assuming one was completely sane before." He narrowed his eyes at the pair. "Now. I sincerely hope this visit is about more than just satisfying your morbid curiosity."

"Yes, sir. Actually, what Cal and I were wanting to talk to you about were some old papers you'd published back in _Scientific American,_ three years ago. As I recall," Kris made a show of studying her notes, but Cal knew she didn't need to. Her memory was nearly photographic. "…you stated that you were studying ways of 'restarting' a deceased body, of actually reanimating the dead. As I recall, your research was…not well received by your peers in the scientific community."

"That's…actually a very polite way of putting it, Ms. Simone. Rather like describing a nuclear explosive as 'somewhat hazardous to living organisms.' My esteemed colleagues…" and here, the cold blue eyes flashed with a hidden fire, "felt there were better uses for such funding." Pause. "I…learned to…adjust my research along lines more acceptable to the general public."

"Still, you did some impressive work along those same lines. I recall you had some success with lower life forms."

"Some. But not enough to really attract the sort of attention I needed. I did have a few…offers, shall we say? From overseas backers, but I was always somewhat skeptical of their true motivations. But all that was before the military confiscated my files and my research." He shrugged. "After that, there wasn't much point."

"Well, in any case, it doesn't really relate to the paper Cal and I are to write. What can you tell us about the field of forensics in general?"

…_.._

"No, mum, neither of them hae tried to learn anythin' aboot the Family. Just small talk. I learned more aboot _their_ families than they did o' mine." Say, that was right: she still had that nightgown Cal had loaned her, an article of clothing his mother had worn, that she'd requested, to see if the Oracle could determine anything. She should just hand it back, but…."Say, mum. Cal gave me a nightgown his mum had, for Glenda to sense…maybe she could use it to tell somethin' about _Cal?_ Like, who he's with, his organization, maybe? We might learn somethin'."

"_It's possible. Send it on, and I'll hae her look at it."_ Aidoann's mother paused, and Aidoann could hear the concern in her voice. _"And, Aidoann…from what ye've told me, is does nae sound like yuir two friends were tryin' ta hurt ye. I think maybe you were just workin' at cross-purposes. They might'hae been as surprised as you were. I canna sanction ye havin' anything more to do with wi' 'em, not without more and sounder information, but I dinna think they're truly evil."_

"Thanks, mum. It's just…I thought I'd made two good friends here, an' now…."

"_Well, ye might still have. It would'nae be the first time friendships crossed political lines. Yuir grandmum could tell ye stories. Don't let yuir anger guide you. Remember: __Anger begins wi' folly, and ends wi' repentance__.__"_ There was a pause on the line, while Aidoann could practically hear her mother mentally shifting gears. _"Now, I've somethin' for ye, to look into. Seems there've been a couple of incidences, and some disappearances of young people, just north of Arkham, that are troublin' the vicinity. Normally, 'twouldn't be our problem, but Glenda sensed somethin' and is tellin' us it needs looking into. I'm sendin' ye the information we have, which isn't much. We just need you to investigate, make sure it's nothin' to do wi' the Great Old Ones. If it's just some American criminal or group of criminals—and it prob'ly is—ye're to supply the authorities with whatever ye find out, o'course, but under no circumstances compromise your identity. Let the police do their job. Understood?"_

…..

"Well, that was…enlightening." Cal was driving them back to his house. Kris sat there, on the passenger side, apparently lost in thought. He glanced at her. "He certainly told us a great deal."

"He sure did. Some of it using words, even."

"Huh?"

"The whole time he was going on about his 'research,' I was watching his face. Cal, if he's given up on that research, I'm a leprechaun."

"Well, you _are_ kinda short…"

"Can it, daddy long legs. And wasn't he a little too…free with discussing his _former_ line of research? Almost as if he'd _rehearsed_ what he'd say, should anyone ask."

"So…you're saying he's behind Williams' resurrection?"

She bit her lip. That was what Brother Elder had tasked them with finding out. It was just too…coincidental that, _right there,_ in the same city as a resurrected corpse, there should be a man associated with reanimating dead tissue. "I'm _sure_ of it. Only…I don't see how."

"And again I say, 'huh'?"

"How'd he get to the body? We're presuming he tampered with it, somehow, to, to do what he did—that is, of course, if he's guilty. But Cal, I know it. I feel it. The guy's dirty. But of course, right now," she shrugged, "we got nuthin'."

Friday, lunch time: Cal and Kris got their trays and went over and sat at their usual spot…right by Aidoann. Without a word, the Scots girl picked up her tray and left.

Cal and Kris looked at each other. So that was the way it was to be? Well, they'd have to respect that.

For her part, Aidoann was still struggling with her emotions. Part of her wished she could just get angry and be done with it, tell them off, good and proper, but…she had to admit, it just wasn't that simple. Yes, they had concealed that they worked for a rival organization. But they'd also been…friends. And something in Aidoann mourned for the loss of that friendship.

Was she being too harsh? She knew about keeping secrets. "Oh, by the way, I know we've just met, but I work for an organization dedicated to keeping these monster demon gods from ever reclaiming the Earth," wasn't exactly something that just fell out of one's mouth after the first few minutes.

Had they, perhaps, intended to tell her, at some point, and matters just came to a head before that point was reached? She desperately longed to believe that.

And what about her? What, really, could she say? No matter how you looked at it, it was an awkward situation, one she didn't know how to deal with.

Back home in Scotland, she'd had friends, friends whom she'd not been able to confide in. It hadn't been easy, growing up with powers like hers, and that was one reason she'd spent so much time on her uncle's farm. The rocky hillsides were far less easy to torch accidently.

But she'd had friends, and none of them had known about her _specialness._ What, exactly, would she say? You couldn't just tell people things like that, not if you wanted to stay out of asylums…or government facilities. Even with the Family's help, it had simply been in everyone's interest to keep that part of her life under wraps. _Deep_ under wraps.

So could she really blame Cal and Kris for doing the same thing? Part of her said, _yes!_ They were, both of them, after all, different! Both of them shared the touch of the Old Ones, and therefore a certain kinship. Couldn't they have found some…common ground?

Or had they? That first meeting, in the old church, well, that really hadn't been the best time for introductions. And matters had happened too quickly in Australia….

Her conflicting emotions were tearing her apart. She longed to go back to the good days when they were just three friends, watching television, talking, eating those horrendously spicy hamburgers. And that could never again be. Not now. Not ever.

Her mum had counseled her on restraining her anger, and there was truth in her words. But that didn't keep her from…feeling like she'd been betrayed.

What about her friends back home in Scotland? What if they learned the truth about her? Would they feel betrayed, left out? Would they wish nothing further to do with her?

Would they see her as a freak?

Quite possibly.

So, wrapped in a cloud of personal misery, she made her way home to her apartment after school, scarcely remembering her lessons that day. Mechanically, she did her homework, and saw to what cleaning up she had to do. Then she went over the file Glenda—the Oracle—had sent her, regarding the odd disappearances of the American teenagers. Part of her just couldn't get into the spirit of the investigation, but she persevered.

The reports she had weren't all that informative. Several teenagers, three boys and one girl, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, had gone missing between September 21st and October 31st of this year. There were no leads, no ransom notes, no clues as to what could have happened to them. They had been too old to be the subject of custody disputes, and besides, there was no evidence of that in any of the cases. No, they were just four perfectly healthy young people who'd vanished without a trace. Considering modern detection methods and social media, that was saying a lot.

Well, tomorrow she'd see what she could find out. It was, her mum had agreed, probably a case of kidnapping with the intent of some form of sexual slavery—a common enough theme worldwide—and, if so, there'd be nothing for her to trace. She didn't have any psychic or Sensitive powers of her own.

But it would be something she could get good and mad about. At least, in that case, she'd have a perfect excuse. That thought cheered her somewhat. It was better to _know_ what to feel, sometimes.

She picked up the remote and flicked on the TV. _Inception_ was playing on HBO. She hurriedly snapped the TV off again.

Maybe a good book…

….

Innsmouth: Cal was just finishing up his training, and went down the corridor to check on Kris. Ever since Australia, she'd been undergoing some intensive martial arts training. And…she'd told him something about a little surprise she was working on.

He found her in the gymnasium, practicing her attacks and moves on a suspended heavy-duty punching bag. He had to admit, she was getting pretty good. Probably better than he, himself. And she took this training very seriously indeed. He got the impression she was embarrassed about having been captured by the Elder Things in Australia. "Hey, Cal." She took the opportunity to stop, wiping her face and head. Her hair was sweaty and hung down her back in strings. "You finished for the day? Good. Got something I wanna show you." She went over to where she had her stuff piled, and pulled out…

"A sword, Kris?" Cal looked at the instrument in her hands. It seemed to be a standard Japanese _katana_, but with a somewhat broader than average blade, and an oversize grip. There was a golf-ball sized spherical knob on the end of the handle.

He took it from her, noting its balance and heft. Although he knew diddly about swords, this one seemed well balanced, and lighter than it looked. It wasn't very long, but the blade shone as though made of silver or stainless steel, and he noticed the temper line running the length of it. "Looks good, Kris. You training with this?"

"Yeah. Australia showed me a gun is not a good melee weapon. I should'a known that; you'd think all those hours playing _Warhammer_ would'a taught me _some_thing. But guns can run out of ammo. This can't."

"I see."

"So I've been practicing." She took the sword from him, and flashed it through the air, describing graceful but deadly arcs, moving in patterns as precise as dance. He was impressed. "Hey, you're just like Leonardo. Only prettier."

She favored him with a quirk of a smile. "It's about time you noticed. But this sword's got a little secret."

"?"

"I asked Frank about a chainsword. You know, a combination chainsaw and sword, like in _Warhammer?_ But he gave it some thought, and came up with something better." She held the sword in front of her, and twisted the end-cap slightly.

Almost immediately, Cal could detect a faint smell of ozone. "Now watch." She went up to the practice bag she'd been sparring with, and suddenly swiped the sword across it, from left to right. The bag immediately split open, spilling its sand onto the floor of the gym, the bag itself cut wide open, nearly all the way through. What remained of it hung from the ceiling, now nothing more than heavy fabric.

"Okay," he said, "I'm impressed." In the movies and anime, the swordsman (or woman) usually only had to make one single swipe to cut anything and everything in half. But in real life, most things tougher than tissue paper didn't cut that easily, and so, no matter how sharp the sword, it frequently required the wielder to hack at the object more than once, to sever it, as if with an axe.

That hadn't happened. The gym bag had been cut open as if the sword were a Jedi lightsaber. "How does it work?"

She twisted the handle once again. "The blade produces a razor-thin field of molecular disruption. It doesn't affect air, of course, but anything made of solid matter gets cut in half. Of course, that makes it all the more dangerous to _me_, too, so Brother Tanis has been training me with a _bokken._ And, the power supply is limited to a seven hour charge, right now. More if I'm careful. Kinda like a cell phone. He's working on a built-in power source, something that would last longer…"

"Still, Kris, this is impressive. So, you're gonna go all 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle' on 'em, huh?" He smiled. He couldn't imagine Kris as a mutant turtle. Or as a male anything. "Hey, I could call you Karai, you know, as a code name."

She thought about it a moment. "Mmm…maybe. But I intend to be more like Shredder than Leonardo. So, yeah, maybe Karai, especially since no one should get a good look at me, anyway." The uniform the People had come up for her did resemble the stylized ninja outfit frequently made popular by movies and TV: it covered her whole face, except for her eyes (which would be protected by goggles), but was still designed for her to have a place to hang her various weapons. Tight fitting enough to secure her weapons within easy reach, but baggy enough not to be uncomfortable in the process. "Well, anyway. If you're done, how about a quick bite to eat?"

In the commissary: the fish stew was exceptionally good, and Cal and Kris scooped it down like they were starving. As he ate, Cal let his gaze wander around the café. "Hard to believe all this was here all along, and I never knew about it."

"It _is_ an undercover operation, after all." Kris didn't look up from her stew. He could tell what she was thinking, the same thing they'd discussed—in a roundabout way—back home in Arkham. This "undercover operation" was ultimately designed to bring about Great Cthulhu's reign on Earth. Kris had asked him, on several occasions, just how he felt about that. And he still wasn't sure.

One thing he'd come to believe, partly from what Brother Elder had said, and partly from his own observations: he didn't think humanity had long to live, anyway. Not as a society. Not as they had been. Things were just getting too tense, internationally. War was practically an inevitability, sooner or later. What kind of war, and how extensive a war, was up for grabs.

But even if war could be put off somehow…things in America were getting bad. Society was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Either the government would have to declare martial law, or risk total anarchy.

What would he do then? With whom would he side? He knew Kris, and, yes, Aidoann…but should civilization fall, and it very easily could, he'd have no choice but to side, totally, with the People, the Deep Ones. And that meant with Cthulhu.

His father.

Cal had deliberately prevented himself from thinking about that. He couldn't imagine the monstrous Cthulhu, who was, by all accounts, the size of a mountain, as having relations with his mother. How? It made no sense, but, well, magic, he guessed. The magic of the Old Ones.

And what would happen, should he decide to throw in his lot with the Deep Ones? Would this upset the balance, and summon the Outer Gods? Would they then nuke the surface of the Earth, or maybe blow up the sun?

Just exactly how far was he willing to go, should everything go to crap?

How far would he go, to protect those he loved?

Of course, in a way, he already knew the answer to that.

Kris had finished her stew, and sat looking at him. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

He started. "No, actually, I wasn't. But…it's a legitimate concern, Kris. I don't want us to be enemies. I hope we don't become enemies."

She reached over and took his hand. "Cal…you may not have that choice to make. Remember, she's got her own ideas as to how things work, and apparently, she's dead-set against anything tilting the score towards the Great Old Ones. And once this whole thing with the Spawn gets settled—if it ever does—sooner or later, you'll be called upon to be Cthulhu's representative here on the surface. And I don't think she's gonna go for that. At all." She stopped, and smiled at him. "You kinda like her, don't you?"

"What? No. Oh, that's not what I meant. I mean, I _like_ her…but only as a friend. I don't want to see her hurt." Pause. "Of course, it goes without saying, I'd just as soon not see _me_ hurt, either."

Her fingers entwined around his, under the table. "It wouldn't be anything to be ashamed of, Cal. I mean…face it, she's drop-dead gorgeous. You'd haveta be a eunuch not to feel _something_ for her."

"Yeah, well, I try not to think with that part of my body. Even I know that's a recipe for disaster. _Especially_ with Aidoann." He wiped his hands and mouth. "You ready to go back?"

"Yeah. Lemme grab a quick shower and I'll be ready."

….

Thursday: "Dr. Overmeyer? I'm from the _Daily Sun_. We spoke on the phone?" Aidoann had finally tracked Overmeyer down to his clinic.

"Yes, and as I told you on the phone, I don't do tabloid interviews! I've no time for such nonsense!"

"_Please,_ doctor. All I need is just enough t'keep m'editor happy. A few words. Just a few words from you?" Aidoann did her best to convey the impression of a desperate young reporter given an ultimatum by her boss.

Overmeyer eyed the stranger. Lovely, he thought. And the lovelier they were, the more trouble they were. But this one seemed persistent…

"Very well. But only a few minutes, I want that made very clear."

"Certainly, doctor! And, and thank you!"

He ushered her into his back office. "Now. What did you wish to ask about, as if I didn't already know."

Aidoann made a show of embarrassment. "'Tis true, some of m'questions are about Mr. Williams. What do you think happened there?" She did her best to appear to be truly desperate for any information she could get.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Mr. Williams wasn't dead when they buried him. I didn't see the body prior to his…resurrection…but I understand he had some sort of heart attack. Or was supposed to have had one."

"You doon't believe he did?"

"No. I don't know what the cause of 'death,'" and here he made air quotes, "was to begin with, but my personal opinion—which is worth nothing in the light of the complete lack of any evidence—is that he was a victim of premature burial. Now. That's really all I can say about that."

Aidoann consulted her notes. "Verra well. But one other thing: there've been some reports of several teenagers gone missin.' Would ye have any comment aboot that?"

Overmeyer shook his head briskly. "Different subject altogether. I don't keep tabs on runaway teenagers, but I know one thing: most of the time, when people go missing, it's because they want to. And, in either case, that's a matter for the police. I try to keep my hands out of such things. You should, too, if you hope to advance in your organization."

"Thank ye, doctor. It's just…" She ran her hands through her hair. "M'boss does'nae always see things that way. He's asked me t'get information on several subjects, most o'which doon't seem related to me. I'm simply tryin' ta keep m'job." She tried to project the image of the put-upon underling, at the beck of an unforgiving taskmaster. It usually worked.

He looked at her for a long time. Then, "I've said all I can affordably say about the Williams case. There's really nothing more to be added. Now, about the disappearances….completely not my field of expertise. A matter for the police, not me. But, well, I have heard a few things. Rumors. Nothing more, you understand. Really, nothing worth mentioning." Watching her the whole time.

"Anythin' you could tell me would be most appreciated, doctor!" Aidoann was conscious of his attraction to her, and deliberately positioned herself to best display her face and body.

"Tell you what. I've said all I can say here. But…off the record…there's an excellent little bistro not far from here. If you'd do me to honor of accompanying me there…perhaps we could discuss some…rumors."

"Oh, tha' would be verra nice, doctor!"

…..

Cal's house: as had become the custom, Kris was staying over. They'd already eaten, settled down to watch television, and were both getting sleepy at about the same time. This time Cal was nodding off, to Kris's amusement. "Hey, sleepy hollow head. Maybe you need to get to bed?"

He snapped awake. "In just a moment, Kris. I wanted to catch the local news." He picked up the remote…..

"…_.killer on the loose in Arkham and the surrounding environs. Captain Davis, what have you to add to that?"_ The female news anchor was on the spot with the police.

"_Not much to make of it, Ms. Sanandra. This is the fourth such murder we've had in the space of two months. We urge all citizens to take all precautions, as there seems to be no real pattern to these killings. We're taking every step to corral and dispose of this beast…"_

"_You say, 'beast.' Do you believe this to be an actual animal?"_

"_The mode of attack would seem to indicate such. We are seeing evidence of teeth and claws. But we've yet to rule out anything."_

"_Is there a pattern to these killings?"_

"_None we've been able to detect. Serial killers usually target specific types of people, if only from necessity. But there have been too few points of commonality in these murders to really say anything definite."_

Cal and Kris looked at each other. Murders?

"_What can you tell us about these deaths, Captain?"_

"_Only that everyone should take every possible precaution, and go no where alone."_

….

The bistro Dr. Overmeyer had told her about was indeed excellent, and Aidoann ordered the curry. Something not too expensive; she was reluctant to order anything more so. "Oh, this is verra' good, doctor. How did ye' come by the knowledge of this place?"

He'd selected a chicken salad. "It's close by, the prices are reasonable, the hours convenient, and the food superb. They don't advertise like they should, but to me, that's a plus. Means less waiting time. How did I hear about it? Word of mouth, from my students at Arkham University." He paused, wiping his mouth. "You may have noticed, it's one of those little out of the way places. If you didn't know it was here, you might never find it. To me, that only adds to the charm of it." Another pause. "There are lots of places like that in Arkham. This is a very old town."

"Indeed. I've no' been here long enough to know aboot such places, so this is verra good knowledge to know." She waited, not wanting to dive right into the subject matter. That would seem rude.

But finally, he finished his salad, and spoke to her. "Now…about those disappearances you mentioned. As I said, a totally different matter. But I was struck by the fact that they were all of a specific genotype."

"Oh?" She daubed at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes. Maybe it's my own experience as a geneticist, but I noticed they were all in pretty much the same age category—between sixteen and twenty, and, with one exception, all male. In kidnappings, females are usually more easily overpowered, though that's never any guarantee of safety for my sex." He smiled, slightly. "It seems we're more easily duped."

"But…why, doctor? Why would this sort of thing just…start?"

He shrugged. "Any number of reasons. Though…." And here, he caught himself, as though giving second thought to what he was about to say. "No. That sort of suspicion doesn't make for very good dinner table conversation."

"What doesn't, doctor?"

Again he hesitated. Then, "Well, since I've—sort of—brought it up, I suppose I can't leave you dangling. I was referring to bootleg organ harvesting. It's becoming a growing concern in the U. S., and some countries overseas. Now, see," he said, at her expression, "here I've gone and ruined dinner for you. I really should learn to discipline my mind better. Or, better still…let me make it up to you sometime. Another dinner, perhaps, but this one with no work related talk. Please. For my own peace of mind. After all," he smiled a disarming smile, "We really should have better things to talk about."

…

"Cal, wake up." Kris was shaking him awake.

"Huh? Whuzzat?" Cal was in that peculiar landscape between true sleep and wakefulness. With great effort, he opened his eyes, to see Kris sitting on the side of his bed, looking worried. When had she come into his room? "Whu—* What…what is it, Kris?" She was looking off, towards the door of his room, as though her attention was drawn to something downstairs.

"Something set off the wards downstairs." She kept her voice very quiet, as though fearful of something close by hearing her. "I don't know what; I just saw the flare of light from the dining room window. And I thought I saw a shadow…but I couldn't be sure."

"A shadow? Of what?"

"Didn't get a good look at it. But it was big, Cal. About the size of a bear. But a bear wouldn't have set off the wards, would it?"

"No." He sat up, thinking. Reflexively, for reasons he couldn't name right then, he glanced at the window in his own room, closed tight, of course. But they were on the second floor. "Just stay calm. It might have been a burglar."

"No burglar would have set off the wards, Cal." That was true. The wards Brother Oberon and his people had set up around the house were designed to respond primarily to magical entities and energies. _Malevolent_ magical entities and energies.

She looked at him, clearly worried. "Cal…do you suppose it might be Aidoann? Remember what Frank said?"

"He said there was a _chance_ she'd be ordered to kill me. But, really, Kris, I don't think it's her. What you described—'bigger than a bear'?—doesn't sound like her, and, to be honest, I don't see her as doing that. She'd be more apt to challenge me in broad daylight. She wouldn't sneak around like this." But, he wondered, who—what-else could it be?

The pair made their way downstairs, where Kris retrieved her sword, and, after a moment's thought, slipped on the shoulder holster for her Glock. It wasn't very comfortable over her pajamas, but she hoped she wouldn't need it for long.

But better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

Cal switched on his laptop, logging into the private website the People had, searching for one specific feature. "What'cha looking for?"

"The People's version of Google Earth. Ah. There." He located the coordinates of his house, and zoomed in, magnifying the image thousands of times, and making sure of the time coding. "There." He pointed to a shadowy image of the yard to the side of his house, the side where the kitchen was. There was something just outside the window, something that refused to resolve into anything more definite than a large shadow, vaguely resembling some sort of quadruped. "It _is_ about the size of a bear. Kinda looks like one, except…what are those?" There seemed to be two shadows fanning out to either side of it. "Funny it doesn't resolve any higher than that." Everything else was in sharper focus. He was careful to take snapshots of the thing, whatever it was. Then he got on the phone to Brother Elder's office. It was late, but the answering service was twenty-four seven. "Melissa? This is Calvin Michaels. Something just tried to break into my house, something that activated the wards. I got some orbital shots of it, but can't make out any detail. Brother Oberon might need to be alerted. It looks like something up his alley. Yeah, I'm sending it now, as an attachment."

…

Aidoann made her way back to her apartment, from her impromptu "date" with Dr. Overmeyer, confused, but suspicious. She'd received the same impression as Kris: he was hiding something. Something to do with reanimation of the dead.

Had he brought Williams back from death? How? He was right; modern embalming methods pretty much ensured that if one wasn't dead prior to the procedure, one would be afterward. Had he somehow broken into the mortuary before the corpse had been embalmed? But then what?

If any resurrection procedure had been applied to the body, it should have taken immediate effect, and there would have been no burial: nothing to bury. On the other hand, if he'd waited until after the burial to do whatever he did…that would mean exhuming the body (which by then would have been essentially poisoned by the embalming fluids), and applying his "treatment."

And another matter: supposing he _had_ come up with some effective means of reanimating dead tissue that didn't involve a castle in Germany and servant named "Igor." Say, some sort of injection. With the body's heart stopped, how had whatever chemicals injected into it made it to the rest of the body? No heartbeat, no pulse, no blood flow. He would've had to practically submerge the body in a bath of chemicals…and all that served to make everything more complicated, perhaps so complicated as to preclude actually doing it.

Make something difficult enough, and it usually doesn't get done. Most defense and security systems were built around that simple principle.

Now, true, if he'd had a whole university or government facility at his disposal, then, yes, a lot more became possible. But there was no indication he had any such resources at his disposal.

Pondering this, she got out of her car to go in, already fumbling with her keys. It actually had been an enjoyable evening, really. Dr. Overmeyer seemed like nice man, and, she admitted, very intelligent and an excellent conversationalist. She'd enjoyed their time together. She found herself wishing there was some good, solid concrete evidence that would exonerate him from suspicion. But she, like Kris, had noted those little signs that indicated guilt.

Of something, she reminded herself. Not necessarily any unholy attempts to resurrect the dead.

Just as she unlocked her door, she thought she heard, somewhere far, far off, the distant baying of a hound. For some reason, it raised the hackles on the back of her neck. Something about it seemed…unnatural.

But that was silly. It was just a dog, off in the distance, baying at the moon.

_To be continued…_


	18. Chapter 18: Monster

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 18: Monster

…..

_Please check out Thomas Perkins' retro comics covers on Deviantart for "Kid Kthulhu." You won't be sorry!_

…

"Cal, you are NOT going out there!" Kris was adamant, anger in her face and voice. "You heard Brother Oberon! Until we know more, you are staying put!"

"C'mon, Kris. If it _is_ a bear or something, all I gotta do is water-blast it. Problem solved. And I don't want some wild bear trashing the garbage all over the yard."

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him, not budging an inch. "You are placing too much confidence in your own powers. What if it's not a bear? What if it's something supernatural? You don't know what it could be. It could be out of your league. What's the harm in playing it safe?"

"The _harm_ is that I remember when those dogs tore open the garbage and strewed it all over the yard. I was all day picking it up. And all I gotta do is just open the door for a second, blast a stream of hard water at whatever it is, and close the door. If it _is_ something supernatural, it can't get through the wards, anyway."

"No. En Oh. You are NOT doing that, and that's final!"

"Kris!"

"Cal, I lo—like you just the way you are: _alive._ You wouldn't let _me_ do such a harebrained thing, now would you?"

He was about to reply _but that's different _when an ear-splitting howl erupted from outside. It sounded like it was coming from the back yard.

When he was twelve, Cal had read _The Hound of the Baskervilles_, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He'd found the description of the creature in the book to be more terrifying than any TV or movie monster, all the more because he had to imagine it, imagine the horror of what the demonic hound had looked like.

This mournful cry sounded _exactly_ like it could have emerged from the throat of the mythical creature. Cal was no coward, but all of sudden, he had doubts about the wisdom of going out into the middle of the night to confront whatever made that howl.

Kris's face was as white as paper, and she clutched her sword tighter, her fingers caressing the power switch. "That…didn't sound like a bear to me."

...

Aidoann was in her living room, feet up on the couch, when she heard the baying again. Strange, she thought. In all the time she'd been here, she'd not heard such goings on. But then she shrugged. Perhaps somebody had bought a dog, a hound maybe. Such a racket might get them charged with disturbing the peace.

So why did just the mere _sound_ of it send shivers through her? It was just somebody's dog. Or maybe a wild wolf, somewhere. Aidoann didn't know much about the fields and forests around Arkham; she supposed it was possible that there might be some wolves left out there.

But for some reason she couldn't identify, she was inordinately glad to be indoors right then, though she wished she had some company. Too bad she couldn't call Cal or Kris. And the only other person she knew well enough to call was Dr. Overmeyer, who'd given her his cell number. She smiled a bit of a rueful smile at the idea of calling _him_ up; while she was sure that he, too, would welcome the chance for some "quality time" with her, she had a hunch that "quality time" could easily lead to…uncomfortable situations. At least, uncomfortable just yet.

...

Meanwhile, at his apartment near the university, Dr. Henry Overmeyer had just finished doing what light cleaning he normally did at the end of the day: took out the garbage, made sure to dust, and arrange his books in the order he preferred, and was actually in the act of getting out of his clothes, preparatory to going to bed. It had been a good day, overall. He had no illusions about what those two high school students wanted: they were trying to link him up with the resurrection of Charles Williams. Well, they could look forever, for all he cared. He wasn't guilty of that. This time.

The Scots girl, Aidoann, was a bit of a different matter. Overmeyer wasn't all that familiar with the tabloids, but it wouldn't shock him to see tomorrow's edition emblazoned with an image of his face, and a caption reading: "REVEALED! DOCTOR REVEALS WONDER DRUG THAT BRINGS DEAD BACK TO LIFE!" Just like that, in all cap letters. Even though his standing with the university was fairly solid, he'd no doubt get called onto the carpet yet again. Just like last time.

But she was just so pretty. And there was something about her, something beyond mere good looks, that he couldn't really identify. He sighed. It was always his emotions that kept getting him into trouble.

Two years before, when he'd been living in Providence, his neighbor's child's kitten had been struck by a car and killed. The little girl had been inconsolable, crying unceasingly. He'd found himself acting before he actually thought it out. "Wait, wait. Don't anyone go to pieces just yet. I think I just saw her move. Here, let me take a look…" And he'd carried the limp bundle of fur back into his apartment, back into the very back, where he had some…supplies he'd stashed over the years, supplies he'd thought he'd never need, supplies he wasn't supposed to have, according to the U. S. government. Various supplies from a life he'd left behind. But nobody ever throws out _everything_ from their old life, do they? After all, what if you need it again?

Carefully, carefully (and out of sight of both the little girl and her mother), he'd administered the compound, at the same time massaging the little chest to get the heart moving just enough to move the blood through the veins. Carefully, carefully….

After nearly an hour and a half, he saw a forepaw move. Then an eyelid twitched. The kitten mewled in pain at the broken bones she had, but he knew the worst was over, and sighed with relief. Broken bones were a comparatively easy fix.

He'd administered the stoutest pain reliever he had that he dared give to the little animal, calculating the dosage correctly, and, carrying the kitten back out, presented the child with the revived pet, explaining that she must've "just been in a state of shock," and that accounted for her unresponsiveness. Then he told them he'd need to perform surgery to set some of the bones, as they were in too deep to be simply splinted. "But your kitty should be fine, once those heal up." The little girl's gratefulness knew no bounds, and the mother baked him pies every day for a solid year, until the day she and her daughter moved away. If he'd eaten them all, he'd have ended up weighing five hundred pounds, minimum.

It was always his emotions that got him into trouble.

And now this. Absolutely to-die-for girl reporter, needing information in order to retain her job. Of course it was just a job to her, but for him, it had been an evening to remember. An evening with a goddess. _Oh, come on, Henry. So she's good looking. So? She's no "goddess"; you long ago decided there was no such thing as gods or goddesses. Isn't that right?_

_Of course it is._

So why did something in the back of his mind, in the depths of his soul, keep whispering the word _goddess_ to him?

He sighed again, in the act of taking his shoes off. Never mind all that. He had little doubt but that he'd seen the last of her, though of course he'd try. But she'd got what she needed and now…_never mind, Henry. It was just dinner. Now it's over._

But oh she was so beautiful.

He was just about to climb into bed when his cell phone rang. His heart leaped, like it was trying to come up out of his throat, in order to answer the phone, _itself._

But then he saw the "Unknown caller" ID flashing. Who? "Yes?"

"_Hello, Henry. It's your old buddy, your old pal. How's tricks?"_

"You!" Every trace of the mild-mannered doctor vanished in one savage snarl. Neither Cal, Kris, nor Aidoann would have recognized him as the same man they'd spoken with earlier. "I told you to _never_ call me again! Never! And how did you get this number?"

"_Oh, come now, Henry. I know you didn't really mean that. You remember the good days we had, all the breakthroughs we made? You were a big part of that. You could be again. You know you want to be. _

"_And you've seen the results of my latest work, already."_

Overmeyer's eyes narrowed. "Soooo….you were behind Williams' revival. I wondered. But how did you overcome the—no, wait, I don't even want to know. I've left all that behind. I've left you behind, too. So get off this phone and quit trying to get me back into your—*"

"_She's very beautiful, isn't she?"_ The voice was like silk being drawn over a razor blade. Instantly, Overmeyer's chest felt as though he just come down with an advanced stage of tuberculosis. He knew exactly who the voice was talking about, and he also knew that _the other_ had absolutely no qualms about harming another, should he feel like he needed to.

Or even for the mere fun of it.

"Leave. Her. Alone. She's not in this. Understand?"

"_But you __are__ in this, old chum. Make no mistake. You most definitely are."_

_To be continued…._


	19. Chapter 19: Investigations

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 19: Investigations

_Everyone who reads this should not let Thomas Perkins' excellent Deviantart retro comics covers for "Kid Kthulhu" go unseen. They're great…such memories they bring back…_

_And, of course, I should add, no one who reads this, hell, anyone who reads,__ period,__ should be familiar the with works of H. P. Lovecraft_

_I raise my glass: To He Who Started It All…._

…_.._

The next day, Cal and Kris inspected the back yard, from whence the unearthly howl had come. Kris pointed to something on the ground: there, in a muddy patch, was a pawprint. A huge one. "Cal, I don't think they make dogs that big. Wolves, either."

"I agree. And we both know that whatever set off the wards last night was no ordinary intruder." But he seemed to be breathing a sigh of…relief, maybe?

Kris smiled up at him, kneeling down by the pawprint. "I guess what we should do is make a plaster cast of this, while it's still fresh. See if Brother Oberon can recognize it."

"Good idea."

"I know you're relieved, Cal."

"Uh…"

"It wasn't Aidoann last night. You can rest easy knowing that."

He scratched the side of his head. "Have you always been this telepathic, and I just never noticed?"

"Yeah. Ever since fifth grade, dummy. Girl's prerogative. So come on." She got up, hooked her arm in his, and guided them both towards the back door of the house. "Let's go get that plaster of Paris."

Aidoann was thinking about Dr. Overmeyer (Or _Henry,_ as he'd insisted upon her calling him). He seemed like such a nice man. And although she'd not gotten any of the information she needed to link him to Williams' resurrection, she found herself rather glad of that. He didn't seem like the sort to delve into such matters, anyway, and, and, she just plain didn't want him to be guilty of any wrongdoing.

Their relationship…might be complicated. Although Aidoann was of age, she was still registered as, and posing as, a high school student. Should he get wind of that, it could easily spell the end of any relationship she…might want to pursue.

She sat down on her couch, dialing his number. She really had no idea what she was going to say, but she…just wanted to see him again.

The phone rang and rang. Finally, _"Hi, I'm unable to come to the phone right now. Please leave a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."_

"Dr. Overmeyer? Henry? This is Aidoann. I, uhm, wanted to repay you for yuir kindness th' other day, an' take you to lunch, if you doon't mind. M'editor was happy wi' what I brought, so that's all I needed. This is just…well, call me, would ya? Thanks. I'll be waitin'."

She ended the call and looked at her cell phone. She wished she could call Cal and Kris (and thinking about them made her smile; they were like bookends, neither one complete without the other), and just talk. But that wasn't to be, not so long as Cal worked for an Elder God determined to bring the entire Earth under his sway. Glenda, the Oracle, had even divined the truth about Cal's true nature, his heritage. He wasn't just a hybrid Deep One; he was the son of dread Cthulhu himself. And, whether or not he'd actually given it extended thought, he was in the service of the Elder God, his father, whose unswerving goal was to bring the whole Earth under his domination. She wondered if Cal had really thought about what that really meant….

_Numberless hordes of Deep Ones emerging from the ocean's depths, weapons ready and blazing, some riding giant beasts, mowing down the pitifully few police who tried to stop them. Then the human military would get involved, jets and missiles would fly over…only to be knocked down by elder magic. Only mankind's simplest weapons, sharpened blades, would work against the tide of oncoming hosts … hosts maybe numbering in the millions, perhaps more… troops who would rapidly spread from each coast inward, taking complete control of the territory as they went, herding humans into reservations to be sorted out later…_

_And over and above all, would be Mighty Cthulhu's own son, high and lifted up, surveying the carnage, giving orders to his troops…._

No. She would never let that happen. Not even if she had to kill Cal. _But, please, God, if You're really out there, don't let me have to kill him!_

Again she tried Overmeyer's number, and again she got the recording, this time beginning almost immediately. Maybe that meant his voice mailbox was full? She wasn't sure.

Maybe she should just go over there. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

Driving along in her Sentra, she took note of the apartment complex where he lived. A decent place; it looked to be well tended and managed.

There, there was his apartment. She went up to the door and rang the bell.

To her surprise, he opened the door almost before the chime sounded. "Ah! Aidoann! How nice to see you! Please, please come in…" And he led her into the interior of the apartment.

The living room / TV room was cluttered from one end to the other with books, periodicals, scientific papers, and just plain stuff. Aidoann nose twitched; it was clean enough, but it was clear, from the clutter, that a bachelor lived here. "I've been tryin' to call ye, but I keep gettin' th' recording. So I thought I'd just drop by. I hope I didna catch you at a bad time?"

"Oh, no, not at all. Truth is, I've been having a little trouble with my phone provider. I'm, er, afraid I forgot to make a payment last month, and that's complicating things somewhat." He cleared a space on the couch for them to sit on. "But I'm so glad you're here! I've thought about you…a great deal, you know, er, since last time."

Aidoann blushed at his obvious sincerity and eagerness. "Well, it was only dinner. But I would verra' much like to repay you, buy _you_ dinner somewhere. I mean, you came through for me when I needed ye the most, an' it seems like th' least I c'n do for you."

He sat beside her, clearly entranced. "Believe me, Aidoann, it was my pleasure. But if you're really serious about repaying me," Aidoann tensed slightly at this, "there's another little bistro not far from here." He checked his watch. "And it's just about time for dinner. Would you do me the honor?" He got up and stuck out his elbow.

She laughed. He was much less inhibited than last time. "Why, _certainly,_ kind sir." And she took his arm and let him guide her out into the soft Arkham gloaming.

….

"Alright, here's what we've got." Cal was going over the reports Brother Oberon had just sent them. "Closest match is a, a mascot, I guess you'd say, for a corpse-eating cult in the hidden plateau of Leng. But-*"

"Whoa. _Corpse-eating cult_? What the hell is that?"

He showed her the file he'd printed out. "Well, as usual, it's more complicated than all that. If all they did was eat corpses, well, you know. But they don't seem to confine their culinary habits to just the deceased."

Kris looked a little physically sick. "Yeah, but _corpse eating cult?_ What's _wrong_ with these people?"

"That's just it: they're not people. At least, not anymore. Anyway, don't worry about it. About them, I mean. What matters is their pet seems to've taken up residency here in Arkham."

"I guess I gotta ask why, huh?"

"Nobody's too sure about that part. There's rumors that it's somehow tied to certain rituals performed at certain times of the year, or a certain place, or certain events, but mostly to a certain pendant. A jade pendant." He showed her a picture of the pendant Brother Oberon had sent him.

She scrunched up her nose at the image. "That's gotta be the ugliest bling I've _ever_ seen." Cal had to agree. The jade pendant was large, about two inches in diameter, and inscribed with an image of a hideous creature, part hound, part hyena, part bat, somehow combining the elements of each one into something far worse than all three. All around the edges were inscribed ancient symbols, some of which Cal recognized as being of chthonic origin, but used in a way they were never meant to be used. Terrible symbols. Summoning symbols. Symbols to summon something that shouldn't ever be summoned.

"Anyway, that's our best bet. If we can find this pendant, we can get a handle on this, this…_thing_ before it hurts anyone else." He sighed. "Now how we go about finding the pendant, _that's_ the next problem."

Kris was sitting on the couch in the living room, her legs pulled up underneath her. She was still in her pajamas, clutching her sword. "Is there maybe some way to track it, magically?"

He shook his head. "They're trying. But it's not…not the usual thing they tend to look for. You might say their magical search engines aren't really equipped to find something like this. But maybe they can narrow it down.

"One thing Brother Oberon promised me: unless we do find some way to neutralize this monster, the deaths will keep on coming."

…

"Oh, _doctor,_ tha' was _such_ a naughty joke! I didna' think you had it in you!" Aidoann was laughing in spite of herself. In the back of her mind, she was wondering: what had happened to the shy but cute Dr. Overmeyer she'd met originally? He seemed like a wholly different person tonight.

Well, maybe he was just loosening up a little. No harm in that. "Ah, my dear, never would I offend you in any way. But I'm glad to see you laugh. It makes me feel like…like it's all been worthwhile." As he spoke, his countenance fell slightly, as though remembering things best forgotten.

Seeing that, she sobered. "Worthwhile, doctor? What would ye be talkin' aboot, that seems ta trouble ye so?"

He toyed with his food for a moment, scowling. "Well, I suppose there's no reason you shouldn't know. It's not exactly a big secret, in medical circles. Once, many years ago, I…experimented with resurrecting the dead."

_Oh, no!_ This was the very thing she _didn't_ need to hear! Especially not if she wished to find Dr. Overmeyer—Henry—guiltless of any wrongdoing. "Er, you did?"

"Yes, but it was a _horrible_ mistake, and I vowed never to do it again. But," and here he smiled that disarming smile of his, "the memories remain. I suppose having regrets is not a totally bad thing; they show us what not to do. I," he muttered, as though under his breath, but loud enough so that she could hear, "seem to have my share of such."

So clearly distressed was he that she reached across the table and laid her hand upon his. "Tell me aboot it," she said, very softly. "Completely off th' record. Just…two friends talking."

He hesitated. Then, "I had been attempting to revive lower life forms such as flatworms, and, and a few others. I'd had some success…but the problem was, had I truly brought the creatures back to life, or was this simply the way their biology worked? You know about starfish, don't you?" She shook her head. "They regenerate. Some fishermen see them as competition for fish, and try to destroy every starfish they catch in their nets. Chop them into little pieces. Sounds good in theory, doesn't it? Except the things _regenerate_. Each piece becomes a whole new starfish. So the problem is multiplied, not reduced.

"Were these flatworms the same flatworms that had died? Or were they, like, offspring of the dead ones? How would I know?

"How did I know if I was truly bringing something back from beyond? Or if what I saw was simply its offspring, risen, like a phoenix, from the ashes of the parent?

"The only way to tell was to upscale the test subjects, use subjects that had, that had some _personality_ to them, something that I could measure."

_Please, don't tell me you used human subjects! I'm begging you!_ Aloud, "So what did ye do?"

"I used mice. Laboratory mice often have striking personalities." He sighed, theatrically. "And I got mixed results. Some came back, and showed no sign of any complications. And some…came back changed. Horribly changed."

"Changed how, doctor?"

"If they'd been human, I'd have said they were raving maniacs. They attacked the other mice, including their mates, they even went so far as to attempt to harm themselves, sometimes by throwing themselves against the walls, running into sharp objects…it was as though they _wanted_ to be dead. I tried and tried but I couldn't find anything truly _different_ about them, anything different from the others, I mean.

"That was about the time my research became known to the government authorities. I had no idea they'd react so…strongly to what I regarded as simple research. They closed me down completely, and I was blackballed from the university where I worked. I had to move, to leave that old life behind. Eventually I wound up here, hoping that everybody had forgotten about…my sordid past." He sat, looking morosely at his hands.

She found herself softening. He hadn't done anything truly wrong, merely pursued a line of research that was frowned upon for some unknown reason. "Goodness, doctor," she began.

"Please. Call me Henry."

"Alright, _Henry._ Tha' is a terrible story. But why d'you suppose those mice came back…different?"

"I've no idea. My testing of them was interrupted, and I was essentially shut down. The only surmise I could come up with was that…something had gone wrong with their brains, somehow. Maybe they—the bodies, I mean—weren't _fresh_ enough. It only takes four minutes for anoxic brain injury to begin, you know. If something had happened, so that the blood flow was interrupted for those few minutes…even though I took every precaution, still, there is always the chance that one is mistaken about some things. Accidents. You know."

"Yes, doc—I mean, _Henry._ But, I haveta admit, what you described, aboot the mice attackin' the other mice, does sound a lot like this recent thing with that poor man."

Overmeyer nodded. "You're right, it does. But, Aidoann, that's the thing. My research, all my notes, everything was confiscated. That doesn't mean it was sealed in amber, never to be looked at again."

Her eyes widened as she saw what he was getting at. "You think _someone else_ might be copying yuir research? Wi' similar results?"

He spread his hands. "It makes the most sense. And," and here, he looked around, a bit fearfully, she thought, as though afraid of eavesdroppers, "you have to admit, a government agency or government-backed research group would have had no trouble whatsoever with…tampering with a recently deceased body, no matter where it was."

_Of course,_ Aidoann thought, _it only made sense!_ A government agency was continuing Overmeyer's research…and, should there be any repercussions, there was the good doctor himself, right there, almost custom made, ready to take the hit. "Oooh, doctor, tha's terrible! You could be in serious trouble, if they're tryin' to reproduce your own work!"

If anything, he looked more depressed. "I know. But what can I do about it? I can't go to the police or the authorities…they _are_ the authorities. I don't have a lot of options." He paused. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

He was shaking his head, vigorously. "No, no. It would be much too irresponsible of me to even attempt it. I, I just couldn't."

"Couldn't what, doctor?"

He rubbed his chin, his gaze focused on infinity. "If I could perfect the process…make it work, without the brain damage…or perhaps even _repairing_ the brain damage…then, conceivably, I might could go public with it. It would then be an unmistakable boon to mankind, with no negative side effects. And those who tried to silence me in the government would themselves be silenced, lest they be seen for what they are: scientific plagiarists, plunderers of another's work."

Aidoann's eyes grew even bigger. "Doctor…that sounds verra' dangerous. You would be goin' up against some verra' powerful people. If they caught wind of yuir actions…"

He leaned across the table. "I know. But it may be my only hope." He gazed at her, looking her right in the eyes. He had very dark eyes, she noticed, very dark and very deep. "You…could help me."

"Uh…help you? How, doctor?"

"Please, _Henry._ You could help me gather certain supplies. I have connections with my old employers; I could get some things from them. But I'm sure the authorities are watching my every move, and would be alerted if I sought to acquire all the needed materials. You could help me. They aren't watching you." He reached over and took her hand. "And…forgive me for being forward, I'm not usually this way, please understand, but…you could also be my…inspiration."

"Ah…inspiration, doc—I mean, Henry?"

"Well, you know the saying: behind every great man is a woman. You could be mine. I could take on mankind's last, ultimate foe, death itself, and emerge victorious…for you."

She found herself blushing madly. "Doc—I mean, Henry…you're embarassin' me. We've only just met…"

"I know, but I feel like I've known you for…for forever, Aidoann. Like I've been waiting for you…all my life. Maybe even _beyond_ life. I _know_ this is sudden! It's sudden for me, too! But, but I can't help but feel the way I feel…" And he gently kissed the back of her hand, increasing her blush coverage by about fifty percent.

"Henry, please…"

He reached his free hand around the back of her head, all the while looking steadily into her eyes. "For those eyes…to see the expression of love in those eyes…I would conquer the universe. And I can, I _feel_ it, I _know_ it. I _can_ conquer the universe of death! I would lay it all at your feet. If only you'll let me, my Lady."

….

Dr. Henry Overmeyer returned home after a long, hard day at work. He'd had to stay late to grade some papers, and to speak to a few grad students about several projects in the works. He sighed as he came in the door; always good to come home.

But immediately, he knew something was wrong. His apartment was cluttered, it was true, but living alone, he'd become used to it. Now he noticed that the clutter had been…rearranged. Some journals, some publications he'd previously left on the couch…had been moved.

Who could have moved them? Then, with a sick realization, he instantly knew who'd moved his stuff, who'd been in his home. _He_ had been here. _He _had found a way to enter his apartment, just as he'd found his new cell phone number, the one _he_ wasn't supposed to know. But what else had _he_ done while he was here?

Should he go to the authorities, report a breaking and entering? But nothing had been taken. And there was no sign of forced entry…he happened to spy his cell phone, which he'd forgotten to take to work today, the missed call light blinking.

He picked it up, pressing the button to see who'd called.

Another sick feeling: Aidoann had called, not once, but several times. Damn. The one thing he would've cheerfully traded a kidney for, and he'd missed it. He started to call her back, but hesitated. It was about dinner time, and he didn't want to interrupt her meal. And, truth be told, he was a little shy about women in general…particularly one as beautiful as Aidoann. What could she possibly see in him?

_I'll call her tomorrow,_ he thought. _It's getting late._ All the excuses he normally used flitted through his mind…

….

"So…what's the verdict?" Cal and Kris were on speakerphone conversation with Brother Oberon's staff member. Brother Oberon himself hardly ever communicated by voice. "What do we need to do?"

"_By all means, look for this amulet. We're searching for it now. It could be anywhere, but we will track it down eventually._

"_In the meantime, it's imperative you know what you're dealing with. This beast, this hound, is a Class 8 entity. Class 8 is right up there at the limit of what you can handle at your current level of training. Engaging it in one-on-one is inadvisable. So play it safe until we know more. Now, if you could find the amulet, that would go a long way towards dealing with the creature. It seems to be drawn to the amulet, though exactly why isn't known. It may be that, should it find and secure the amulet, it would go away and leave everybody alone. Or it may not. But right now, it's the only thing we've got to go on._

"_We're sending you what information we have. It isn't much. Oh, one thing: sometimes this amulet, for reasons unknown, seems able to, to conceal itself. Why or how, we don't know. But it may well be that the police have it, and don't know it. You'll have to do a search for it on your own, probably from within the precinct house itself. Just search for anything that radiates strongly in the theta range. How you'll get it out of there, if it is there, is going to be a challenge."_ There was a rustling of paper on the other end. Then, _"I've just been handed something. Your friend Aidoann…Brother Oberon is sensing some powerful negative forces converging on her. She's in danger. I don't know what you're personal relationship is with her now, but…"_

"We get the picture," said Kris, sitting at the table. It was still midmorning, and she hadn't yet gotten dressed. Cal thought she looked so cute in her blue pajamas, with her hair tied back like that. "We'll try to keep an eye out for her."

Afterwards, he and Kris discussed what they'd learned. Something big and powerful—Class 8 wasn't to be sneezed at—and apparently using Arkham as its hunting ground. "So," began Kris, still holding her sword, running a polishing cloth up and down the blade. "I guess we go check out the local police station, right? And you do that hoodoo that you do so well….see if there's anything unusual in there. Like really unusual."

"Yeah." Something had been bothering him for some time now. "Kris, I-*"

"So what do you think we should do about Aidoann?" She broke in, unaware he was about to speak.

He shook his head. "Don't know. You know she's having nothing to do with us. I have a hard time picturing any danger that could threaten her, but I imagine this Class 8 could." He ran his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. "Guess we need to let her know, somehow, someways."

She ran the cloth up and down the blade. Already it looked natural in her hands, like she was born to wield such a weapon. "I'll figure out a way. Maybe a passed anonymous note during study hall, or, or something."

He came over and sat by her on the couch. "Yeah, that might would do it. I just hope her temper doesn't get the better of her, and she thinks _we're_ threatening _her_…that would be bad."

"Yeah." Kris smirked. "A pissed-off Aidoann is definitely not an improvement. Leastways, over most things." Silence fell between them, not an awkward silence, but just the silence of two friends who don't need to talk.

"Kris, I…" But he trailed off. How could he express his sentiment in a way she wouldn't misunderstand? _Kris, I wish you'd move in here? Like permanently? Not for sex or anything, but just you, you living here? It's safer here, and, and I feel better knowing you're safe._

And then the next thing that seemed to come to his mind, completely unbidden…

_I think I'm in love with you, Kris._ No, no, no. He could never say that to her. Especially not that last part. Wasn't true, anyway.

Wasn't it?

"Yes, Cal?" she said very softly. Almost as if she could read his mind.

"Uh." _Brilliant comeback, Cal. Wanna try for another monosyllabic grunt?_ "I mean…I'm glad you were here, the other night." _I wish you were here every night._ "I, I probably would'a rushed right out, right into that thing's jaws."

She wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed him tight. "Part of a woman's job is to keep her man from doing stupid things. Now," she said, yawning, before he could process what he'd just heard, "I've gotta go get dressed. We've got a big day ahead of us." And she took her sword and went towards her room.

Leaving him to wonder: _her_ man? And the more he pondered it, the more he smiled.

_To be continued…_


	20. Chapter 20: A Call to Darkness

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 20: A Call to Darkness

_By all means, check out Thomas Perkins' "Kid Kthulhu" retro comics covers on Deviantart. I keep hoping that if we all beg loudly enough, he'll gift us with the full comics. What? It could happen!_

_And, of course, this is also dedicated to the Master of Macabre Fiction, H. P. Lovecraft himself. If you haven't read any Lovecraft, drop __everything__ and read some _right now!

Chapter 20: A Call to Darkness

Aidoann was absent from school the next day, too. Cal inquired about her to their teacher, and was told that she'd called in "sick". "I don't believe that," he told Kris at lunch. "Aidoann's _never_ sick."

"So what's the plan?" The two were talking in hushed whispers at their end of the table. Usually, they were alone, but this time a couple of boys chanced to be close by. Once again, Cal was struck by an oddity: although Kris was a beautiful girl (at least, to him), for some reason, guys tended to leave her alone. Like she projected a psychic force-field or something. (And, and….he now remembered Kris making some teasing remark about Katie Wendall, whom he'd thought was very pretty, 'way back in grade school, calling him "fine," or "cute," or something to that effect. "But you needn't worry, Cal," she'd told him, with a feral grin. "I took care of it for ya."

Took care of it? He'd been halfway afraid to read the newspaper for a couple of days, for fear of accidently seeing something in the obituaries.

Why would Kris act that way? It made no sense.)

Back to the topic at hand. "I've got us an interview with the police captain this afternoon. Had to, well, had to lie my ass off, but I told him we were working on a project involving cadavers."

"Cadavers?"

"Yeah. Brother Oberon said the pendent sometimes conceals itself, you know, for some reason. Probably just to screw with us, like most of the other eldritch things we've encountered. Anyway I doubt it'll be on the dead bodies, but maybe there'll be some trace I can pick up on." Already, he was mastering the magic of the Elder gods, the magic that Mighty Cthulhu employed, as did the other Old Ones.

Kris studied him for a moment. He was becoming awfully familiar with the Elder magics, and, from what she'd read, that had a tendency to change a person. Just the other day, she'd heard him mention "mighty Cthulhu," in a completely ordinary tone of voice, in such a way that she doubted he was even aware he'd said it like that. And she wondered if he'd thought through just what his role in upcoming events was supposed to be. More than likely, he hadn't given it too much thought, being too focused on the here and now. She resolved to talk to him later about it.

And, yes, maybe about some other, but no less important, things. Relationship things.

That last part scared her in a way nothing ever had ever before. But it had to be done, sooner or later.

But all that was for later. "So. When do we make our move?"

….

1:30 PM: Precinct House number 37. They were met by an officer who ushered them into the presence one Captain Ryan. "Ah, yes, you're the young people with the project."

"Yes, sir. We're to observe modern forensic techniques in action."

"Well, we aren't conducting any actual autopsies here—that would be at the University, anyway—but I suppose I can let you see what we've got." And he led them downstairs, into a level that was actually below ground.

An officer sat at a desk, visible just as the elevator doors open. Captain Ryan nodded to him, but addressed Cal and Kris. "This is Officer Todd. It's his job to tally up the number of people who come this way. You know," he grinned, "Make sure the same number who came in also leave_._ You'd be surprised how much it complicates things when those numbers don't equal up. Now. You'll need to be fingerprinted…"

Ten minutes later, he was shaking his head. "Mr. Michaels. Do you work with your hands a lot? Strenuous physical labor?"

"No, sir. I'm a high school student. Oh, I have a part time job at the Whataburger across the river but…"

Ryan was shaking his head. "Well, I don't understand it, but you don't seem to have any fingerprints. I've never seen that before. Oh, well. It's only a formality, anyway. There's really nothing down here anybody wants to steal." He laughed. "Though sometimes I do wish somebody would take some'a these stiffs off our hands.

"Anyway, something I should warn you about these particular cadavers: they're all torn up. Whatever killed them was _thorough._ And enthusiastic. You'll need a strong stomach, is what I'm saying."

Cal glanced at Kris, whose face showed no hint of concern. "We'll be alright, sir."

First body: Ryan hadn't exaggerated one bit, Cal thought, even as he felt his gorge rising. If the poor sap had fallen headfirst into a lawnmower, he doubted it would produce more damage. "Mind you, due to the nature of the case, none of these bodies have actually been autopsied," Ryan explained. "So you're seeing them in their original condition, just like when they were brought in. They didn't have to be pronounced dead, except as a legal matter. That they were dead was pretty damn obvious."

Cal couldn't keep his horrified eyes off the mangled form. He glanced over at Kris. She was standing calmly, just as if she did this sort of thing all the time. _She's gotta have a stronger stomach than mine._ "Captain Ryan. I know you said you haven't actually done any autopsy, but does it seem to you, first glance sort of thing, if any of the body is, like, _missing_ or something? I mean, I've read about serial killers carrying off souvenirs…"

"Well, without a full autopsy, it's really impossible to say. But I'll say one thing, off the record. I've been hunting a few times in my life, and come across kills. By animals, I mean. Of course.

"Animals very, very seldom kill just for the sake of killing. Some do, but most don't. The ones that do, however, usually just leave the body untouched, once they've killed it. The hunters, those who hunt for food, usually settle right in. After all, they're hungry. That's what they've made the kill for.

"But if I didn't know better," and here he squirmed, picking at an ear, clearly uncomfortable with saying what he was about to say, "I'd say this seems to be a little bit of both."

"What do you mean by that?" Kris asked him. She walked around the gurney, looking at the mangled corpse from different angles, completely dispassionate. Yep, stronger stomach, thought Cal.

"Understand, this is just my layman's observation but…in every case, of course, the bodies were as you see, torn apart. But from what I've been able to tell, everything about the body appears to be here. Dramatically rearranged, yes, but all still here. However, it does appear that the _heart_ is missing in each such body we've come across."

Kris looked up. "The heart?"

"Yes. But just the heart. At least, so far. Once the university gets off its duff and gets around to doing an autopsy, we may find other organs missing, but you can clearly see…" He took a pointer and indicated a spot in the violated chest, "_something_ went in to the chest cavity and, for whatever reason, removed the heart."

Kris leaned over, apparently not even noticing the awful stench. Cal admired her fortitude. If she hadn't been along, he'd have made his excuses long ago. "It's true. Looks like the heart's been, well, _gnawed_ out. Captain Ryan? I know we're off the record here as far as these cases go, and we're just asking for general information, but…does this look like the work of a wild animal to you?"

He shifted, a bit nervously. "Everything I say about this case is off the record. It's ongoing, and Not My Department. But…normally, I'd think so, but why _just_ the heart? What's so special about it? The heart's just another muscle. But, just looking, I can't see anything else missing."

"Hm." While she'd been talking, Cal had begun to utilize his magical senses, canvassing the mangled body on the gurney before him, moving outward into greater and greater circles…

Here he found someone's lost pocketknife, that they'd searched for, but never found. There he noted the sadness in the mind of a little girl when she learned Mommy and Daddy weren't going to be living in the same house any more. Here, a child's toy, dropped, discarded, but important to someone, once.

And at the very outermost edge of his strange sense of perception, he sensed something. Something old. Something powerful. Something hungry.

Kris saw his expression. "Where?" she whispered.

"_Evidence room_," he mouthed back at her, behind Ryan's back.

….

It had already been a good day, Jeff thought, as he led his son to their favorite quail field. Early this morning, they'd stopped by a small tributary of the Miskatonic and managed to snag a couple of nice sized brook trout. Now they were headed for the upland quail fields. They had brought the dogs, and turned them loose at the edge of the tall grass.

But instead of diving into the hedge, the dogs seemed afraid, had hung back with their tails between their legs, clearly wishing no part in the thatch of tall brown grass. What could have spooked them?

Jeff and his son urged them on, but the dogs were having none of it, and could not be made to go into the tall grass. Jeff and his son looked at each other and shrugged, almost simultaneously. Well, they'd just have to make do.

But no sooner had they entered the tall grass than they heard a low rumble coming from somewhere up ahead. It wasn't loud, but it was deep and resonant enough to literally shake the ground beneath them. What th'?

That's when a monstrous black form rose up out of the darkest of the thickets, and fixed them with a burning red gaze, eyes clearly glowing, even in the midmorning sun.

The last thing that went through Jeff's mind was _not a dog too big to be a dog not a d-*_

…

"Thanks, officer. We'll be going now." Cal shook the officer's hand as he and Kris started for the exit.

"Not a problem. Did'ja get what you came for?"

"We got enough for now. By the way, just out of curiosity, which way is the evidence room?"

"Down that hall. But you'd need a special pass to get in there; evidence, you know."

"I know," Cal laughed. "It's just…you know, Kris and I have seen so many episodes of _CSI_ it's unreal. I always wondered where the real evidence room was."

"Yeah, well, now ya know. Have a good 'un." And he went back to reading his paper.

The spell was very subtle and precise. Officer Todd _saw_ everything that transpired around him. He _saw_ the two high school kids turn and walk back down the corridor he'd just indicated as being the one with the evidence room. _Saw_ them stop at the door, and _saw_ the boy do something curious with his left hand, towards the locked door, which clicked open obligingly. _Saw_ them disappear into the very forbidden room he'd mentioned.

But he didn't _notice_ any of it. The newspaper in front of him was much more interesting.

…

Aidoann was tired, but happy.

Dr. Overmeyer—_Henry,_ as he insisted on her calling him—had kept her busy "acquiring" the necessary compounds needed for his mixture. Most of them could be found in local pharmacies…and therein lay the problem.

Security around pharmacies was second to none, outside of actual military sites. This was only logical; they were the best places to find both money and drugs. But what few people realized was the _level_ of security that had been instituted in modern pharmacies lately.

Everyone was accustomed to the normal security cameras, of course. But these would be easily defeated by a simple can of spray paint. Or, better still, by a paintball gun, fired from a distance. And there were audio pickups, spaced around such facilities, but these, too, were easily defeated by just a little forethought.

What few people knew about were the new Q-wave cameras actually placed _inside the walls of the buildings._ So finely tuned was their perception that they could be adjusted to see through thin wall material and return a recognizable image of the other side. Quite a few thieves had found themselves apprehended almost before they'd managed to get back their hideouts…which were usually known to the police, as well.

Dr. Ov—_Henry_ had needed her to call upon the training she'd had as part of the Family's covert team, to scramble the Q-wave cameras in such a way as to make it seem like a routine malfunction, one not uncommon to such new technology. That only gave them a few minutes before a live security force would be summoned, but those few minutes were all they needed.

In return, he'd been….most grateful.

"I can't tell you how thankful I am, Aidoann. You are literally helping me rebuild my entire life from the ground floor up. I _promise_ you, when this is all over, I'll not forget you. No one else has ever helped me, no one else has ever _believed_ in me, the way you have.

"And…" And here he stopped, momentarily, turning to her, taking her hands in his, looking deep into her eyes, "…I don't know quite how to say this, but…I, I want you to be a part of my life forever. I mean, even without all this, or even if all this was, was something that never happened, I'd want that. Could—could you ever see anything in me?" His eyes implored her.

She found herself melting against him. "Oh, Henry, I, I want this, too. More, more than anythin' I've ever wanted, in m'whole life." She leaned up against him, resting her head on his chest, his arm around her. She fit against him like a hand in a glove.

But she felt a certain resistance in him, a certain distance. "Aidoann, there's something I feel like I have to say. And believe me, I really don't want to say it, but…I have to." He pushed her back slightly, holding her by the shoulders and looking her in the eyes. Such eyes he had.

"You called it before, when you said I'll be going up against some very powerful people. People that could disappear me in a heartbeat, and wouldn't hesitate to. Maybe…maybe you shouldn't be so, so closely associated with me, at least not until the battle's over, and I've won. I mean, if something happened to you, I, I couldn't go on…"

She gasped. "Henry! I canna believe it! Surely you dinna think I could just _leave_ you now, in yuir time o' greatest need! Do ye think so little of me?"

"Of course not! It's just…" He dropped his gaze, fidgeting. "I, I care so much for you. I've never felt this way for...for anyone, before. I guess I'm scared. Scared of what might happen to you, because of me."

She pulled him close, her hand going around the back of his head, drawing him into a kiss. "Well, whatever _does_ happen, will happen wi' me as close to you as physically possible. So put such thoughts out o' yuir head."

The kiss was long and lasting, and practically orgasmic for Aidoann. But because she had her eyes closed, she didn't see the strange glint in his eyes as they kissed, nor the way that glint cast a certain coldness over his entire face, his entire expression.

…..

Henry Overmeyer was almost beside himself.

There was no doubt at all that _he_ was back. The one person in all his life he dearly never wanted to see again, ever, for any reason. And he couldn't get Aidoann to answer her phone.

He deduced there had to be a connection. But the sheer terror of what that implied made him think any number of things, more mundane reasons, why she wouldn't answer. Maybe she'd gone back to, to Scotland, and home. Maybe she was visiting relatives here in the States, outside her phone's coverage area.

And maybe something had happened to her.

Or maybe some_one_ had happened to her.

But how could he find out? He didn't have her address, knew nothing about any way of contacting her beyond her phone. The same phone she wasn't answering.

And he didn't know how to contact _the other_, to demand an explanation. The only time _he'd_ called, the caller ID had come up "Unknown number."

He sat on the couch there in his apartment's living room, just thinking. How could he trace her down? He didn't even know the name of the news service she worked for.

And why couldn't he get her off his mind? He just knew he couldn't. Ever since he laid eyes on her, something in him had responded. Feelings he'd spent a good portion of his life denying seem to come back in a rush. All it had been was an interview and dinner. But…

But whenever he closed his eyes, he saw _her._

Henry Overmeyer didn't believe in God, personally. He was too much the rational man, had seen too much of the world, the world of science, to believe in any religion or faith. But he couldn't deny there was _something_ beyond the ordinary about Aidoann. It was like…being in her presence set something off deep inside him, in a place beyond even the probing of positron emission tomography, that caused something in him to, to…almost burst into _flame_ whenever he thought about her. Something very special.

There were many pretty girls in the world. But Henry Overmeyer knew, without any doubt whatsoever, that none of them would ever measure up to her.

A part of him belonged to her, and always would.

…..

Innsmouth: Frank, the Fantastic Battle Brain, let himself into Brother Elder's office while the other was on the phone. "Yes, see to that. We'll need accommodations for two," here he glanced up at the scientist, "maybe more. What date? Hm. That's no good. What else have you got?" He listened a moment, clearly displeased with what he was hearing. Then, "Well, it may have to do. Set us up for then, and if we have to reschedule, we will." He hung up.

Frank had slouched into a nearby chair, an air of weariness about him. "Have you finished it?" asked Brother Elder.

"I have." He produced a small black rectangular block with a charging plate on the underside, and a folded directional dish antenna on top.

"That's it? Somehow I thought it would be bigger."

"Bigger wouldn't help, and would be harder to transport and carry. I'm in the process of trying to refine it down further, even, into something you could slip into a shirt pocket. Like a pen. Of course, the range is limited, but it would be in any case."

Brother Elder turned the small device over and over in his hand. "And you're sure it'll work?"

"Please." Frank gave a smug smile. _You forget who you're talking to._ "Of course it'll work." Then he paused, and his thoughts went off into a place he didn't like. "That, of course, is the problem, isn't it? Of course it'll work."

….

The evidence room: Cal took only a moment to scan the various compartments. It had been but a moment's work to short out the security cameras. A larger city's PD would be more vigilant about nonfunctioning cameras, but sleepy Arkham… Kris had seen the faint trace of smoke curling out from the camera's housing. "You sense it?"

"Yeah. Right….here." He gestured, and one of the drawers slid open by itself. Inside was the amulet, in a plastic bag.

"Ugh," grimaced Kris. "Why would somebody make something like this anyway? The thing's horrible no matter how you look at it."

"I really couldn't tell you that, Kris." He pulled the amulet out of the bag. "'Cept I doubt it all happened overnight." He looked at her. She seemed a little pale. He'd noticed she'd seemed a bit shaky and weary lately. More easily tired. "Kris? You feel alright?"

"Yeah…" She paused a moment. "Just a little tired, is all."

"You're not getting sick, are you?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Just…I haven't been sleeping well. It'll get better. So. Now what?"

Cal drew in a deep breath. Here came the part he really hated. "Now we wait and see what comes to claim _this._"

….

"Doctor…" Aidoann's voice was barely a whisper. The two of them were wrapped around each other, seated on the small loveseat, there in the hideout he'd showed her, where he was conducting his deepest, most secretive experiments. They'd just broken free of a kiss that Aidoann felt could have lit up a boulevard of lights.

"'_Henry,'_" he reminded her, taking her chin in his hand. "Or will you still call me 'doctor' even after we're wed?"

For a brief moment, Aidoann stopped thinking altogether. Time itself seemed to stop. The only thing going through her head was that one word: "wed." Her breath caught….

"Oh, dear," he said, embarrassment in his face and voice, "I'm afraid I got ahead of myself, didn't I? I,I'm sorry, Aidoann, I didn't mean to come off as such a jerk…"

"_Henry!_ Did—did you just ask me to, to….?"

"Uhm, er, well….yes?" He ducked his head, as though ready for a blow.

"_Henry!_ _Of course I will! Oh, yes!"_ She threw herself upon him, kissing him as though she was trying to break some sort of world record. Then she paused, a worried expression on her face. "Oh. Uhm. Henry. I, I just remembered something. There's…there's somethin' aboot me you doon't know."

He pulled her close. "Aidoann, whatever it is, you needn't worry about it. That I promise you. I mean, how could I hold anything against you, with you knowing all about me, and my, my past, and accepting me anyway? So it doesn't matter whatever it is. I still want you in my life…forever."

She turned her head down, placing a hand on his shirt front. The clean, fresh scent of her hair filled his nostrils. "Well, it's…it's pretty big." _You see, I'm not fully human. I'm the daughter of an old god, Hastur._

He curled a finger up under her chin and raised her face to his. "I see that whatever it is has got you worried. You needn't be. There's nothing, and I do mean absolutely _nothing_ that can come between us, as far as I'm concerned. So whatever it is, we'll, we'll work it out. I promise. I _promise._ And you'll see. There won't be anything to worry about."

"Oh, Henry!" Once again, she flung herself upon him. And once again, she failed to see the cold expression that flickered over his features.

…..

"So we're checking out Aidoann's place because….?" The question was evident in Kris's voice, muffled as it was, behind the mask she wore when in costume. Cal had shifted to his Kid Kthulhu form, and the two were currently floating on a cloud of condensed water molecules a little more than a block away and two stories up in the clear night air. It was surprising, Kris thought, how obscuring the tops of trees could be, even if you were only a little ways off the ground.

And floating here, up in the air like this, suspended by Cal's power, was soooo cool.

"Because Aidoann called in sick. Since when is Aidoann ever sick?"

"Well, yeah, but what about this hound thingy? Isn't it supposed to be, like, hunting us or something?"

"That's the theory, but nobody seems to know for sure. Nobody knows if the thing's drawn to the amulet…or if possessing the amulet somehow gives you some kinda control over it. That last would make sense, but that's not what we've seen. Anyway, I just wanted to check up on her before we got caught up in something else."

He could hear Kris's smirk from behind her mask. "Ah, you just wanna see her naked again."

"Oh, for the-* Now, Kr—I mean _Karai_, don't start that. You know…." And here he abruptly and reflexively choked off the words he was about to spill out: _You know I don't see anything in Aidoann._

_You, now…_

_Whoops. _ He closed his mouth just in time.

Boy. That had been a little too close.

"Hey. Who's that?" Kris was pointing at a car that had pulled up in Aidoann's parking space, next to her own Sentra. "I'll be. Isn't that Dr. Overmeyer?"

"Yes, it is, isn't it? I didn't know he made house calls." The pair continued to hover and watch as Overmeyer went up to Aidoann's door, rang the doorbell. No response. He rang it again. Still no response. Once again. Nothing.

They heard him sigh a small sigh of frustration, and saw him step to the side, looking in the main window, shielding his eyes with his hands, trying to ward off external glare. "Kid, this is headin' towards Stalkersville."

"I agree. Let's go…see what's going on."

Dr. Henry Overmeyer was still trying to see into the darkened interior of Aidoann's apartment when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. _Oh, terrific. Now I'm a peeping tom._

But when he turned around, he couldn't help but gasp at the sight: a tall, greenish humanoid whose hair seemed to be mostly thick tentacles, wearing a cape and a loose-fitting coverall type garment, with a mask covering the lower half of his face, accompanied by a slight female figure wearing a black, form-fitting outfit, reminiscent of stereotypical ninjas. Her mask obscured all but her eyes, and yes, she did have swords, crossed in scabbards over her back. What _was_ all this?

"You seem to be showing remarkable insistence in looking for Aidoann," said the male creature. "Might one ask why?"

Henry Overmeyer found himself at a loss for words. Normally, he might would have asked who they were, and by what authority they asked these questions, but, right then, such was his worry about Aidoann that such things completely slipped his mind. And he couldn't deny there was a certain air of _authority_, of personal power about the male, something he couldn't put his finger on…like he imagined it would be, in the presence of one of Tolkien's wizards. "I've been trying to get in touch with her for several days now. She won't answer her cell. It, it was only by accident I learned where she lived….I was…worried. I am worried." How to explain to these strange beings exactly _why_ he had been worried? How could he explain about…_the other?_

The girl stepped forward. He noticed, with some relief, that she hadn't actually drawn the swords. It seemed she might be easier to talk to. " Then let's go over this rationally, from the top. It's pretty obvious that you believe Aidoann's in danger of some kind. Right? Okay.

"Tell us why."

_Once upon a time there were two brothers, twin sons who showed extraordinary potential, brilliant almost beyond what was humanly possible. They were both reading on the college level in grade school, were taking advanced courses in biochemistry and other related fields by their early teens, and graduated from their prestigious medical schools of choice at the age of twenty with highest honors. Each of them strove to outdo the other, a friendly competition._

_Then one of them turned away from the light, and towards the darkness that forever awaits._

_Richard Overmeyer was adamant that one could defeat death itself, that one could "turn the body back on," and restart the chemical processes that characterized life functions with no loss of consciousness or intellect. To this end, he managed, somehow, to procure a steady stream of cadavers from various medical centers, but was often heard to complain about the poor shape they arrived in. His brother, Henry, shared his enthusiasm at first, but during a testing phase of Richard Overmeyer's research, a grad student assisting the two brothers unaccountably died, and another was rendered into a vegetative state. The lawsuits that resulted virtually ruined them both, and effectively shut down their line of research at the university where they'd been studying._

_Henry Overmeyer had accepted this with a kind of reasonable fatalism. It was true, he had had a share in the research, and was thus partly to blame, but he couldn't shake the feeling that his brother had been just a little too eager, seeking ways to acquire fresher and fresher corpses, a necessary requirement for their research._

_And it was not lost on him that the most efficient way to procure a truly fresh corpse was to manufacture one yourself._

_He had confronted his brother on that very matter after all the legal dust had settled. Did you?—he asked._

_Science demanded it!_

_But what of __humanity__? YOU TOOK A HUMAN LIFE!_

"So…you're brother…"

"Continued our research, I'm certain of it. In fact, he told me so. And, and he hinted that, that something might happen to Aidoann if, if I didn't help him." Overmeyer sighed, drained emotionally. He was sitting on the steps, just outside of Aidoann's apartment door. "I, I don't know what else to do. I _can't_ go to the authorities with this…who'd believe me?"

"You think he was behind Williams' resurrection?"

"I'm almost certain of it. How, I don't know."

"And now Aidoann's gone missing." The male creature seemed pensive. "Doctor, may I place a spell of examination upon you?"

"A…a what?" What was this about spells? Like _magic_ spells? Magic wasn't real….

"Sometimes called a 'finder' spell. I can use it to locate things—and people—who are important to you." His green eyes narrowed behind his mask. "And unless I'm very wrong, Aidoann means quite a lot to you."

Henry Overmeyer gulped. There was no denying it.

The male stretched out his hand, as though to place it on Overmeyer's head, but instead moved his hand in a figure eight, while making curious motions with his fingers. Henry Overmeyer noted, with some nervousness, that the fingers seemed to be almost more like tentacles than true fingers…

All at once, the air immediately around his head lit up with a phosphorescent glow, as lines flowed from Overmeyer outward, towards the northwestern edge of town, and another, lesser one due west. "What's out that way?"

"I, I don't know. He, he never told me where his laboratory actually was…" The strongest line clearly pointed towards the northwest, glowing in the night air, its colors shifting slightly. Henry Overmeyer stared in amazement at the lines of force floating in mid-air. What was this? Some kind of plasma? But what was the power source? "Why is it changing color like that?"

"The color shift indicates danger. The more negative influences—danger—she's exposed to, the closer to red the colors will shift." Even as they watched, the strong line shifted, and went from a whitish blue to a yellowish white shade. "We'll take these in order of-*"

A low growl interrupted him, and they turned to face the Hound, no more than twenty yards away, its bat-like wings folding in over its back, its red eyes glowing in the dark like twin headlights.

_To be continued…._


	21. Chapter 21: Changes

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 21: Changes

….

_This done in honor to Thomas Perkins' Kid Kthulhu retro comics covers on Deviantart. Look him up! You won't be sorry! And, of course, to the old Puritan himself, H. P. Lovecraft, who taught us to dream….fearfully._

…_.._

Cal backed carefully away, being careful to keep himself between the hound and the other two. "Karai, take Dr. Overmeyer and follow that strongest line. I'll deal with this thing."

"Kid…?"

"Just do it! _Go!_ Remember, you gotta find Aidoann!"

Krs turned to Overmeyer, grabbing him by the sleeve. "C'mon, doc. Duty calls." While Cal stood between them protectively, she shepherded the doctor into his waiting car. "Keys. I'm driving." Silently, he handed them over. He was still a little stunned by just having seen the hound. There was absolutely no way it could be mistaken for anything remotely ordinary.

Before she started the car, she stopped to catch her breath, closing her eyes momentarily. _No, not now! I can't afford this right now!_ By sheer force of will, she pushed back the weakness, the sickness….

"Are you okay?" Henry Overmeyer asked her. He looked at her with a professional gaze. "No, you're _not_ okay. Maybe I should drive?"

"No. I'll…just give me a minute." She started the car.

"Say, didn't I hear him call you 'Karai'?"

"Yeah." There was no way the doctor would be familiar with the ref-

"Like _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ Karai? I love that show!" Kris sighed, the sick feeling beginning to pass. Great. She hadda get a fanboy.

Cal watched them go, then turned to face the hound. The creature stood less than twenty yards away from him, head down, a low, almost subsonic growl emanating from it. He could feel the medallion in his pocket tingling as it was brought into close quarters with the beast.

Suddenly, the thing leaped at him, bat-wings partially spread, part leaping, part flying, its jaws agape. He blasted it with a force beam, sending it tumbling backwards…but it recovered altogether too quickly and sprang at him again.

He summoned a water blast from out of thin air, carefully focusing it right into the thing's gaping jaws. The force of the water shoved down the monster's throat, hardly halting it charge, but causing it to sputter and cough.

He dodged, already bringing up his left hand, and the spell he'd readied since the beast had first showed itself. He didn't know if he could "mummify" something like this, a magical creature, and now wasn't the time to experiment, but he could use his command of water in other ways.

Moisture condensed out of the air, encircling the hound like a vise, and spinning it around and around, on its axis. The beast howled, and snapped futilely at the fluid bonds. Cal released it, and, while it was disoriented, drew forth the medallion from his pocket.

Almost immediately, the monster stopped, as though the appearance of the artifact had somehow hypnotized it. Cal was under no such illusions, however; this paralysis was only temporary. With his left hand, he readied the spell he'd practiced, while bringing the pendant up to eye level, forming a kind of "cat's cradle" with the leather thong it was on.

The monster's red-glowing eyes followed the jade pendant, even as it bunched its hindquarters for another leap. Cal knew he couldn't keep this up all night; sooner or later the thing would get past his defenses. He might regenerate, but regenerating from being partially eaten wasn't on his list of top ten experiences he'd like to undergo.

So he concentrated, summoning his power, the power of the Old Ones, and investing the pendant with a portion of it. At the same time, he summoned and condensed water from the atmosphere. This was a move he'd practiced, sensitizing an object to his control, with Brother Tanis' guidance and encouragement….

Just as the monster was about to leap for him, he released the pendant, sending it flying through the air towards the beast. At the same time, he focused and condensed water directly behind and to the sides of the flying medallion…and then caused the water immediately behind it to explode into steam.

Again, even as the pendant was in flight, he focused and exploded water behind it, effectively turning it into a bullet—headed right for his adversary. The water to either side helped stabilize and spin the projectile in flight, and served to guide it towards its target.

It struck the hound squarely in its massive chest, the force of its impact driving it deep into the creature. But Cal wasn't finished yet. Even as the hound stumbled, he again activated his "control" spell over the pendant, and, using the fluids in the hound's own body, caused the jade medallion to ricochet around inside the thing's torso.

The old Cal, from less than two years ago, frequently found himself rescuing baby birds, replacing them in their nests, from which they'd fallen.

This Cal nodded in savage satisfaction at the damage his attack was causing this monster.

But perhaps they were the same Cal.

The hound was knocked hither and yon by the forces coming from within itself, forces which partially scrambled its interior. It stumbled and fell over on its side.

But even that wasn't enough to stop the monster. Even with all that internal damage, it still fixed its glaring eyes on Cal, and clawed for a purchase, trying to get to him.

Cal magically drew the pendant out from the hound's body, levitating it back into his hand. It was slick with the black blood of the beast, something he found oddly reassuring. At least the thing did have blood.

The creature was barely able to move, but move it did. _Can't let it stay here,_ thought Cal. The thing was probably unkillable; the best anyone could hope for was to somehow bind it to a certain place. He remembered Brother Oberon mentioning that such a binding spell of such power as to affect a creature like the hound reliably usually required a human sacrifice of some sort. _Well, scratch that._

He lifted off, riding the night wind, heading along the same route Kris had driven, in Overmeyer's car. They couldn't be too far away; he should be able to catch up with them soon. And he had to lead the thing away from civilization, anyway.

….

The house appeared to be deserted, with grass growing wild in the front yard, and the roof and porch in need of repair. "This is it?"

Dr. Overmeyer nodded, gulping. "It…it was one of our…testing facilities. We…we tried to reanimate animals here. With limited success." Another gulp. "The, the actual lab is in the basement."

"Then let's go see." Kris slipped out of the driver's side, even as Overmeyer came around from his side. "After you, doctor."

The door was locked, and, of course, Henry Overmeyer didn't have a current key for it, but one swift sword swipe served to slice open the lock, and she kicked it open. "Think he's expecting us?" Kris took point. She hadn't bothered with the nightvision goggles; the moonlight coming in from the window was sufficient to see by.

"I, I doubt it. I really doubt he's here, to be honest. He knows I know about this place, so, to him, it's compromised. But, but if that…finder spell?...was real, he left _some_thing here." Then he groaned. "I can't believe I'm standing here, on the basis of a _magical spell._ Magic isn't real!"

"Define real. Look, doctor, for right now, let's just do what we can, and sort out our theological and metaphysical difficulties later, 'kay? We have to find Aidoann."

"Yes, yes! By all means…"

Such was the intensity in his voice that Kris partially turned to him, a slightly amused expression on her face. "You care about her, don't you?"

"I, I." He stopped, a look of confusion coming over him. "Yes, yes, I do. I don't know how it happened, but, but ever since first meeting her, I've just been…well, _captivated_ isn't too strong a word…."

She glanced up at him. He was clearly worried almost to the point of being physically ill. She reached out and put a hand on his arm. "We'll find her, doc. Okay? We'll find her."

"I…okay."

The room they found themselves in appeared to be deserted, but Kris was taking no chances, slipping on the nightvision goggles, but keeping them in the raised position. He led her to the basement door, which proved to be more of a downward walkway than a staircase. "It was down there."

"Okay. Doc, you stay up here. No, I mean it: I'm the one with the training and weapons. Besides, you may be needed more up here. See if there's anything else that might help us up here, and if Ca—I mean, Kid Kthulhu shows up, point him in my direction. Got it?" He wasn't happy about it, but glumly acknowledged that she knew what she was talking about.

She readied the goggles, with their IR emitter, and, drawing a deep breath (this would be an exceptionally poor time for—things—to act up again), flunk open the door and started down the hallway.

Upstairs: Henry Overmeyer accepted his task with as much good grace as he could. He wanted, more than anything, to somehow ride to the rescue, to be the one to save Aidoann, even as he realized that to be naught but an adolescent fantasy. While he was in good physical shape, he knew he was no fighter….

What was that on the floor? It looked like a clod of earth. He went over and inspected it. It was indeed a clod of dirt, of rich, black soil, and it was of a type he recognized. The old churchyard, north of here…

_No._

Meanwhile, Kris continued to cautiously explore the pitch-black basement. Her goggles were set for maximum gain, and she could hear movement down here. So why wasn't anything showing up on the screens?

Then the IR emitter kicked in, and she gasped as she saw what lurked there in the darkness. Four humanoid forms arrayed around the walls; she recognized them as the missing teenagers. But they didn't register as emitting on her goggles because they had no heat signature. Yet they moved, clumsily turning to her, and advancing on her, expressions of something beyond mere insanity on their faces.

They were quite dead. Yet they moved.

Grimly, Kris drew her swords. Gunfire wouldn't work on these failed experiments.

Henry Overmeyer gunned the motor. He hated leaving the one called _Karai_ back there, but somehow he was certain his brother had taken Aidoann to the old church, there on the extreme northwest edge of the territory. It made sense that he'd move his base of operations to an abandoned building…and one close by a cemetery. To someone in need of corpses, that was like a Wal-Mart.

And he _knew_, he just _knew_ that, somehow Aidoann was in _extreme_ danger. More so now than before, when they'd scanned him (and _was_ there such a thing as magic? He didn't know, and right then, couldn't possibly have cared less. If a red-skinned man had suddenly appeared before him, offering him Aidoann's life in exchange for his soul, he would've signed the proffered contract without hesitation).

Aidoann had become the most important thing in his world.

The deserted house: Kris blessed the lessons Brother Tanis had given her. The zombies were single-minded, or perhaps no-minded, would be a better term. They just attacked, heedless of the limbs she severed. She took to beheading them…and even _that_ didn't kill them. The headless corpses-that-were-not-corpses simply stumbled around, spouting black blood, seeking with their hands or other body parts for anything warm-blooded. She ultimately had to bisect them completely, and remove their limbs altogether. Even then, the pieces _twitched_ in a horrifying way, as though still searching for victims…

One thing she could be thankful for: evidently, whatever had happened to them hadn't given them the power of speech. They attacked in an eerie kind of silence, and, in that same silence, they "died."

Once she'd satisfied herself that they were sufficiently immobile as to pose no harm, she searched the house for clues. It was obvious Richard Overmeyer had not used this bolt-hole for his major experiments, but she could find nothing to indicate where he might be _now._

And where was Cal? She fervently hoped he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew…

…..

The old church: "Oooh, Henry, this is soo…soo…_moody,_ I suppose is the word." Aidoann looked about her. "'Tis hardly what I expected, from what you were tellin' me."

"Well, understand, I've been operating on a shoestring budget for years now, my love. I'm afraid every bit of money I've been able to scrape together has gone for more practical things, rather than furnishings." He sighed, looking around him. The place _was_ a bit of a dump, he admitted. Perhaps, soon, he could change that. "But it's what's back _here,_ in this secret chamber, that makes a difference." And he led her to a seemingly solid wall. "Watch." There was a light fixture about head height on the wall. He gave it a sharp tug, then another long tug, then another sharp tug.

The wall smoothly parted to reveal a well-apportioned surgical type room just beyond, with a hospital gurney, and shelving full of medical supplies. "I put all the good stuff back here. Come; I'll show you what I've got so far." Such was her fascination with the hidden room, that she didn't see him slip a loaded hypodermic needle out of his jacket pocket, palming it, keeping it hidden but ready….

Cal caught up with Kris at the old house. She was sitting crosslegged on the porch, out of breath, surrounded by pieces of dead bodies. "Careful," she told him, "some of those pieces aren't as dead as they look."

"Great Dagon, Kr—I mean, Karai! What happened here?"

"I found the missing teenagers, Kid. And I think Dr. Overmeyer took off to go try to make like Don Juan Quixote in rescuing Aidoann. Anyway, he took off, while I was…occupied."

"You alright?"

"Yeah. But this proves that one or more of Mama Overmeyer's baby boys is up to no good.

"How about you?"

As if in answer, they both heard the long, lugubrious howl of the hound in the distance. "I bought us some time. Not sure what to do about the thing, though. It's got more lives than Wolverine. Brother Oberon says a human sacrifice will either bind it or send it away, with the pendant, but of course, that's out."

She clambered to her feet. Cal noticed she didn't seem to have her usual graceful energy. _Well, she just fought off four undead zombies. It'd be stranger if she __wasn't__ a bit tired._ "C'mon," He urged her, picking her up with one arm. "Let's go. Where did that last finder spell point towards?"

…..

Aidoann was entranced by the high-end medical equipment her love had managed to assemble. And he could do all this on a practically poverty level economy? She felt a thrill; he was a genius in more than one way.

Surely, she was the luckiest girl in the world.

Absently, she thought about calling her mum to brag on her lover, but refrained. It wouldn't be wise to put such information out there where anyone could intercept it—not yet, anyway. And besides, Henry had insisted she leave her cell phone behind, as cell phones, even inactive ones, can be traced. She saw the wisdom in that. So he was wise, too. "Soo, now what, Henry?" Still looking around at the furnishings, the diagrams on the wall showing the exact anatomy of the human species…

"Now we get ready for our greatest experiment yet, love. And all it takes is a really fresh corpse." Then she felt the sharp sting of the needle….

_To be continued…._


	22. Chapter 22: Bindings

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening. Chapter 22: Bindings

…..

_This story is dedicated to and inspired by Thomas Perkins' awesome retro comics covers, "Kid Kthulhu," to be found on Deviantart. And it should go without saying, that this whole story is, of course, also dedicated to the grandmaster of horror himself, H. P. Lovecraft. If you don't know who Lovecraft is, you really need to fix that, and right now._

…

Chapter 22: Bindings.

Henry Overmeyer pulled up in front of the dilapidated church, jumping out of the car even before it had fully stopped moving. "Aidoann! _Aidoann!_ It's me, Henry! Please, if you're anywhere about, please answer me!"

The door of the church creaked open. "Why, hello, Henry." Richard Overmeyer stood, silhouetted against the light coming from within. "Reconsider my offer of joining me? I'm about to make some great strides, you know." His smile was like a broken glass window.

"You! What have you done with her? Where is she?" Distraught, Henry Overmeyer grabbed his brother by the lapels, carrying him backward into the ruined church.

Richard Overmeyer's smile, sinister though it had been, disappeared altogether as the two grappled. He pulled up a knee and propelled Henry across the room "You damned coward! You refused to help me when I needed it the most. I owe you nothing but pain. Consider this partial payback." And he drew a thirty-eight caliber revolver and shot his brother right in the heart.

Henry Overmeyer gasped and shook all over, falling to his knees, his blood draining away. He slumped bonelessly to the floor, still conscious, but unable to get up the strength to move. He was a doctor; he knew he had only moments to live. All he could do was watch as his brother went to the wall, and activated the combination mechanism that opened the secret door. To his ultimate horror, he saw, there in the room beyond, Aidoann, his love, his goddess, lying, still as death, on the hospital gurney…

Cal and Kris zoomed in on the ruined church, noting Henry Overmeyer's car outside.

Cal kicked open to door to reveal Henry Overmeyer's body lying on the floor. The doctor was quite dead, his body facing a blank wall, one arm stretched out to his side, as though pointing

In his own blood, he'd drawn three lines: one short, one in the middle long, and another short. Then that same finger pointed towards the seemingly blank wall.

On the other side of that wall: Richard Overmeyer was readying his compounds for infusion into the body of Aidoann, once she fully ceased to live. The chemical he shot her with would switch off her vital functions without causing any damage. Yes, a truly fresh corpse. He'd removed her clothing; it would only get in the way.

There was one aspect he'd come to incorporate into his experiments. Normally, he preferred his test subjects awake and aware for this particular part of the treatment, but science could not be halted.

And so he flipped her over on her stomach and, spreading her legs, moved up between them, all the while fumbling with his own clothes…..

Something like a bomb blasted the wall apart, and in the ensuing dust cloud he could make out two figures: one a slight female form, dressed in solid black, and carrying two Japanese _katanas_. But the other…

A tall, greenish skinned _thing_ wearing a loose fitting outfit with a winged "K" emblazoned on his chest. The bottom of his face was obscured by a mask, but his hands seemed to be more like tentacles than true fingers, as did his hair. The apparition's glowing yellow eyes locked in on him, then looked at Aidoann, still lying on the gurney, then back at the doctor. Even through the mask and alien features, he could see the creature's expression twist into immortal fury. "You absolute son of a _bitch_." The figure gestured, and Richard Overmeyer found himself flung away, over towards the opposing wall. "Karai. Get Aidoann out of here. We've got to get her some help. Head for Innsmouth. "He rubbed his tentacular hands together. "I've a hunch I'm gonna enjoy this a little too much."

Even as Karai levered Aidoann's body out into the waiting night, Kid Kthulhu got busy. He slammed his opponent mercilessly, from one end of the room to the other. The snapping of broken bones was clearly audible.

Finally, he tossed the human garbage over by one corner. Richard Overmeyer was one solid bruise by then. Kid Kthulhu approached him. "S-soft. You're too soft. You w-won't kill me, even now," he managed to get out past a broken set of teeth. "So go ahead. Arrest me. I'll just come back. Just like always."

Kid Kthulhu knelt in front of the being. He could no longer think of him as a man. He'd relinquished that right long ago. "Nobody said anything about arresting you. But you're right, I'm not gonna kill you. I don't have to." And, with a grin, drew forth the mystical pendant, placing it firmly in Overmeyer's shirt pocket. _"Magnum canem obscuratis, veni ad me,"_ he intoned, lowering his head: "_accipe sacrificium_." Then he raised his head and smiled an _unnerving_ smile. "Y' see, I don't have to kill you, myself. It actually works out better if I don't." He patted the shirt pocket with the pendant in it. "I know a guy."

In the distance, he could hear the Hound's mournful wail.

….

He easily caught up with the car, and smoothly climbed into the passenger side as Kris drove. Kris was looking worried. "Cal, I don't know about this…her vitals are dropping way too fast…"

Cal got on his cell, dialing a number few others had. "Brother Oberon? We have an emergency situation."

Soon Aidoann's unconscious body was being wheeled into the ultra-modern, below-ground part that comprised Innsmouth's true reality "What did he inject her with?"

Brother's Tanis and Oberon conferred with the chief medical office, one Brother Nemon. "It would help if we knew what he gave her."

"We don't know, and there's no way of finding out in time to save her. Can't you do like a, a broad-spectrum thing?" The others looked doubtful.

Then Brother Nemon spoke up. "I….have an idea. It's completely blue-sky, and extreme, but it's the only hope I can offer for someone in her condition." He glanced back at the machines; they were steadily dipping lower and lower. "And it depends a lot upon Mr. Michaels, here."

"Me?"

….

Brother Elder was shaking his head. "I can see the tactical advantage to this, Mr. Michaels, but I can't sanction it. It's too dangerous, even for you."

"On the other hand," broke in Frank, "can we afford to _not_ do this thing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Consider, Brother Elder. We don't know what he injected her with. It may have been a compound designed to switch off her vital signs…and then switch them back on.

"Can we afford a crazed, undead Aidoann? It would be too late for this procedure then. Aidoann in that state would literally be a Defcon stage alert. And the boy will recover, given time and proper treatment. The other way, a good portion of the eastern seacoast might not."

Brother Elder thought furiously. He had to make a decision, and right then. "Alright," he said, turning to Nemon, "If he's agreeable…"a glance at Cal, who nodded; "…proceed with this….treatment you mentioned. But monitor the boy's vitals very carefully. At the least little sign of danger to our agent, you abort the process. Is that understood?" Everyone nodded.

Kris caught up with Cal outside in the hallway, "Cal, are you sure about this? It seems…kinda drastic."

He nodded. "Yeah. It's drastic, alright, Kris. But we can't come up with anything else in such a short time. So the only thing we can do is try to replace her blood with mine." It had long been understood that Cal was a universal donor: due to his heritage as the son of Cthulhu himself, any organ from him could be successfully transplanted into any other human. And the same held true for his blood. "If we can replace those chemicals in her bloodstream, and maybe her organs, too, then she has a fighting chance."

"But Cal…it could take most of your blood!"

"I'll produce more. All Brother Nemon has to do is keep pushing those fluids and nutrients, and I'll keep right on manufacturing blood, same as anybody, only better. In the meantime, we save Aidoann. Win-win, all the way around. Thank Dagon it works out so simply."

She came up to him and put her arms around him. She barely came up to his chest "It'll be okay, Kris. You know me; not much can keep me down."

"Cal?" Her voice was muffled due to her head being buried in her chest. "Have you been listening to yourself lately?"

"No—o. Why? Should I have?"

Nod. "Yeah. You used to say things like "Thank God," or something. But just now, you said, 'thank Dagon.'"

He paused, shocked a little. He _had_ been using the names of the Great Old Ones more frequently, of late, in common speech. When had that happened? "I….I never noticed, Kris. Maybe it's all the training I've been doing. Maybe that's affected my speech patterns."

"I worry," she said, face still buried against his chest. "I worry that you, the essential _you_, are changing. Remember, Brother Oberon said continued use of Elder Magic tends to change a person."

He held her all the more tightly. "Well, I know one thing about me that isn't gonna change, and that's how I feel about you."

Whoops. Where had _that_ come from? He felt her tense against him. She looked up, her face pale. He remembered that she'd been looking awfully pale lately, but this seemed a bit more so. "And….and how's….how's that, Cal?

Busted! _Whoops, sorry I spilled that out you're my best friend I love you as a friend…._ Dozens of interpretations and euphemisms, different, less personal ways of saying it spilled out of the back of his mind and ricocheted throughout his brain. Somehow what he really wanted to say didn't seem to want to come out. And yet, he _wanted_ it to come out. He wanted it so much….

He hadn't been this scared facing down the hound.

Meanwhile, here he was, holding Kris, looking her right in the eyes…funny; he'd never really noticed before, but Kris's eyes…

An attendant came for him. "Mr. Michaels? If you will..."

Kris watched from the observation room, screened off from the main room by a sheet of one-way glass. The attendants bustled around Cal, inserting needles in his largest veins (and did he have those same arterial pathways when in his "Kid Kthulhu" state? She didn't know. Have to ask some day. Right then, it wasn't very high on her list of priorities), and in the same areas on Aidoann, even though she was going into full cardiac death. It took them some CPR to force the now-sluggish blood through her collapsing veins. But finally, they were able to get several large-gauge tubes connected to her. A technician, with Brother Nemon overseeing the whole process, flipped the switch….

"Come, Ms. Simone." Brother Elder had come up behind her. She hadn't even been aware he'd entered the observation room. "There's nothing more you can do here. All any of us can do now…is wait. And, yes, pray."

That elicited a start from her. "That's the first time I've ever heard you mention prayer." He said nothing. "I suppose you'd pray to Cthulhu."

"He _is_ our God, Ms. Simone. But you, of course, are free to pray to whichever deity you feel will answer. Now, come. You can do nothing more here."

11:30 P.M.: A technician came out into the waiting area. Frank, the Fantastic Battle Brain, had joined Kris there, and both were pretending to read magazines.

The nurse hadn't even gotten through the door when Kris jumped up, her magazine falling, unheeded, on the floor. "Well? What's the news? Is he—are they gonna be alright?"

"It's too soon to tell, Ms. Simone, but the results are looking promising. Mr. Michaels seems to be having no serious side effects, though we had to reduce the flow a bit, so his system could catch up. We don't know anything yet about the girl. We'll keep you informed about them both, of course, but I thought you'd want to know that, so far, all is going well."

Kris felt her eyes tearing up. "Th-thank you. Yeah, please, keep us posted." The technician left.

Frank spoke up. "Why don't you tell him?"

"Hm? Tell him what?"

Frank looked disgusted. "Oh, about the weather in South America this time of year. Come on. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Just tell him. You both have been dancing around this for too long now."

"Are we that obvious?"

"Only if the observers have functional eyes and ears. Yes, 'obvious' is a good way of putting it."

She looked down at her feet. "I…I keep meaning to talk to him, but, but something always comes up…"

"So set a time in your own mind, switch off the cell phones, and talk. I think you'll be…surprised. Surprised at how easy it will be."

She sighed, still looking at her feet. _Stall for time._ "I suppose that's what I'll have to d-*" At that precise instant, a cell phone rang. Startled, she dug into her pocket; it hadn't sounded like hers.

_Of course_. It hadn't sounded like hers, because it _wasn't_ hers. It was Aidoann's, that they'd picked up back at her apartment. The caller ID simply said, "Mum."

"Hoo boy." She moved her finger towards the "answer" button…

The Fantastic Battle Brain immediately jumped up and scooted for the door. "Coward!" she hissed after him.

"Tactical relocation!" he shot back.

"_Aidoann? Is that you? Why have ye not checked in wi' me for the last five days, girl?"_ Kris could hear the pronounced Scottish brogue in the woman's voice.

"Uhm, hello? M-Ms. McCloud? This-this is Kris. I, I don't know what Aidoann's told you about us, but, but we're friends of hers-*"

"_And why are ye answerin' her phone? Where's m'daughter?"_

"She's fine, ma'am. She, uh, had a bit of an accident, well, actually, a misadventure, I guess you could say, and she's here with us, in a hospital. That's why she hasn't answered her phone. But she's fine…."

"_She's __no'__ fine, or she would'nae be in a hospital. Doon't take me for a fool, young lady. Now. Sit down somewhere. Take a deep breath, and let's take this from the start. Tell me what's happened to her, beginning at the beginning, and tell me, exactly, what's going on wi'her."_ And with a speed and efficiency that would have made a Mossad operative envious, Deeana McCloud proceeded to extract every bit of data a suddenly sweating Kris had on the latest happenings regarding her daughter. _"So…she's in a hospital…in Innsmouth?"_ This last said with a rising note of anxiety and fear.

"Yes, ma'am. Uh, look, I, I've gathered, from talking to Aidoann, th-that she evidently is…somewhat fearful of this place. But neither of you needs to be. I know this won't stop you from worrying, but both Cal and I are here with her, and we're not gonna let anything happen to her. You've my word on that."

"_Ye're right; it does'nae stop me from worryin.' What ha' yuir…doctors…said aboot her, and her prognosis?"_

"She's stable, and holding her own. Oh, and something else: we were, all three of us, wearing body cams when all this went down. I can upload the videos to you, if you'd like." _Anything to get you off my back._

"_I would indeed like. Send 'em to me as soon as ye can. And…"_ and here, the speaker's voice broke just a little, "_take good care of m'little girl for me."_

….

Aidoann gradually came to something approximating consciousness. The first thing she became aware of was a pounding headache. This surprised her; she'd never had a headache before. But if this was a headache, headaches absolutely _sucked._

"She's coming around." She strained to open her eyes, but the light was too bright in the room where she was. Did they have floodlights on her or something?

She opened her eyes by stages, letting her pupils get used to the blinding light. Her eyes watered up, and she brought up her hand to wipe them dry.

Or tried to. But her arms seemed to be weighted down with some sort of looped intubation, with needles stuck in her arms, and taped securely, so as to give her some slack, but not enough to put any pressure on the needles stuck in her arms. What th' _hell?_

Kris was standing by her bed, which she noticed to be a high-tech hospital bed, its various position and setting lights glowing either light orange or bluish-green. "Don't try to move, Aidoann. You're okay. You're safe." She took the Scots girl's hand in her own. "Just rest. You've been through an ordeal. We almost lost you."

"What? K-Kris? What…where's Henry?" If Kris was here, Cal had to be somewhere close by, but she couldn't see him in the room.

"Look, all that can wait. You just rest and get stronger, 'kay? We'll tell you all about that, once you get stronger." She looked up as a male nurse came in, with several vials of medicine he proceeded to connect into the intubation system she was connected to.

"But…but where's…Henry? Is…is he…alright...?" She felt her eyelids falling shut again, against her will. She _had_ to know how Henry was….

Aidoann slept.

_Sleep, girl,_ thought Kris, as she lay Aidoann's hand back by her side. _You're gonna need it._

Aidoann finally came to full consciousness a few hours later. "Kris?" Kris moved over to her, again taking her hand in hers. "Where am I? What _happened_ to me?"

"Look, we can talk later…."

"No! I need to know now! _Where's Henry?_"

Kris hesitated. It was really too soon, but Aidoann was getting too excitable. "I'm afraid he's dead, Aidoann."

"Noo!" Aidoann's tear ducts overflowed. On some level, she'd sensed this, but the awful confirmation… "How? How did….?" Then her voice hardened. "It was'nae anything-*"

"No, Aidoann. It wasn't us. Turns out Henry Overmeyer had a twin brother, who wasn't a very nice guy at all. He very nearly killed you. We, we were too late to save Henry. Now, the details will just have to wait. But for now, you just rest and get better."

"But…but…I, I." She began crying more. "I loved him…"

"Go to sleep, Aidoann. Nobody's going anywhere right now." She made sure the Scots girl was fast asleep before leaving the room and going next door.

None too soon. "Nyarlathotep _take _your orders! I tell you, I am _perfectly capable_ of using the restroom, and on my own, too! Kris! Look, tell them I do not, repeat _do not_ need a bedpan!"

Kris turned a crooked smile on the attendant. "Don't forget the duck."

…

It took a full three days for both the patients to recover to the point where they could be allowed out of bed, Cal a bit before Aidoann. They sat with her, in her room, and, between the two of them, filled in most of the missing pieces of the story. They explained how Richard Overmeyer had played on his resemblance to his brother, and of his plans. And how his brother had died.

Aidoann could do nothing but cry. Finally, it seemed she had no more tears left. "So…how, how is it that I'm alive now?"

"Basically a blood transfusion." Kris was sitting on the bed, by Aidoann, with Cal sitting in the hospital room's one chair. Aidoann herself was sitting on the side of the bed, her long legs dangling over the edge. She'd wrapped the standard backless hospital gown, the kind that left more of the patient exposed than not, around herself; she reflected that she ought to be used to personal nudity by now, but she still had her modesty to consider.

"Blood transfusion? But, but….I have a verra' rare blood type…" She was still getting used to being in freaking _Innsmouth_, of all places. She'd certainly never pictured it like this.

Cal rubbed the side of his head. "Yeah, about that…so do I, as it turns out. And my blood…has certain therapeutic qualities. It helped to purge the chemicals from you." He saw no reason to mention _how much_ of his blood it had taken. There was really no point in that.

She focused her gaze on him sharply. "And is that why I have'nae seen hide nor hair of you for all this time?"

He crossed his arms, defiantly. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Pause. "'Course, I will say I've certainly developed a pronounced taste for Gatorade and V-8 juice."

"Ah, there you are." Brother Elder entered the room, along with the Fantastic Battle Brain in tow. "Ms. McCloud? I'm Brother Elder. You might say I'm in charge around here. It's an honor to meet you, though, like I'm sure you do, I do wish the circumstances had been a bit less dramatic.

"And this is The Fantastic Battle Brain," he said, who gave a slight bow, even as Aidoann's eyes widened at the blue-skinned man with the transparent skull. "How are you feeling?"

At that exact moment, Aidoann's cell phone, still in Kris's pocket, went off. "Oh, no," said Kris, "Aidoann, that's probably your mother. She's been calling every hour on the hour, practically, wanting updates. Here; you talk to her." And she handed the phone to Aidoann somewhat hastily, Cal thought.

"Ohmygod, yes! She must be worried sick….Mum? It's me."

Brother Elder took Frank and ushered him out the door. "We'll talk later."

"_Aidoann? Is it really you, child? Are ye well?"_

"Yes, mum, I'm fine…better'n I've any right to be, if what I'm being told is true." She glanced at Cal and Kris.

"_It's true, child, all that an' more. I saw the video uploads from the body cams the lot o' ye were wearin'. I suggest you take look at 'em yuirself. Yuir two friends proved to be truer friends than either of us could have thought or even hoped for. Now punch the speaker button; what I've to say next is for all o' ye to hear." _Mystified, Aidoann complied, and Ms. McCloud's electronic voice filled the small hospital room. _"Kris? Cal? Are the both of ye there?"_

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.

"_Good. I want to say a heartfelt thanks to the both of ye for savin' my daughter's life…and more than her life. I…canna bear to think what might have happened to her, had the two of you not come along when you did. I realized, long ago, that Aidonn's path might take her into danger, an' saw to it she was aware of this, but the reality of what nearly happened…is still worse than any nightmare I've ever had. There are really no words to express m'gratitude to ye both. All I have is a thank you. So, thank you both._

"_Now, Aidoann, punch the speaker button again, an' put the phone up to yuir ear. What I have ta say next is for your ears alone."_

"Okay, mum," she said, glancing at the other two, pushing the button, and putting the phone to her ear. "Okay, mum, I'm here—Ow! Mum! I know about—ow! Yes, mum, I know I made a bad—ow! _Ow!_" Aidoann kept flinching from her mother's words.

Cal and Kris slipped back outside, while Ms. McCloud continued to berate Aidoann. The latter had given them a somewhat desperate look just as they left: _don't leave me!_ "We'll be right out here, Aidoann," said Kris.

Cal turned to her in the hallway. "Think she'll be alright, Kris?"

"Hey, _you_ wanna get between those two?"

Later, at the commissary, Aidoann sat with them, drinking the strong Innsmouth coffee, which, she was coming to realize, was like nothing else on Earth. "My mum was right, o'course. I made not just one, but a whole constellation of _stupid_ mistakes."

"You got played by an expert, Aidoann. Don't beat yourself up over it. I had Brother Elder's people do some checking. Seems someone answering to the description of Richard Overmeyer had a, shall we say, a _history_ of relationships that ended mysteriously. As in, 'the girl disappeared and a body was never recovered' type mysteriously." Cal satisfied himself with hot chocolate, as did Kris. "So he had some practice at that sort of thing."

She was silent for a long time after that. "It…saddens me all the more that…that I never really got to know _Henry_ Overmeyer. All I ever really knew, or thought I knew, was that beast." She'd seen the recordings from the bodycams, in particular how they'd found Henry Overmeyer's body, and what had been transpiring behind the wall once Kid Kthulhu blasted it open. That…had nearly been….

"You did know him a little. That first dinner date…that was him. The real him, I mean. It was just bad luck that when you happened to drop by his place, looking for him, his brother was rifling through his stuff."

"But why was he doing that?"

Cal shrugged. "It's possible he was looking for some way of finding you, Aidoann. Maybe he figured Henry had an address or phone number…and he _had_ forgotten his cell that day. So…really, he was already in the process of stalking you, basically. You were….opportunity to him. You can't blame yourself for that."

She was silent for a long time. Then, "But what aboot this hound monster? You said you sacrificed Richard Overmeyer to it…was that a binding spell?"

Cal nodded. "Essentially. I bound the hound to that ruined church…and Richard Overmeyer's laboratory. I can't think of a better guardian for knowledge humanity is probably better off without. As long as that spell lasts, the thing can't leave that place. Oh, I know…what about people who wander into the place?" He paused, sipping the chocolate. "I really didn't have a lot of options. Sending it away would have required a much more complicated spell, and probably more sacrifices. This way…." He looked solemn. "We can put up signs: 'If you enter, you will die.' And maybe even an electric fence, razor wire…but that won't keep everybody out. But it can't be helped. For right now, I had to go with containment. It was the best I could do on short notice. And," and here, his face and voice took on an expression that Kris had never seen on him before, "It was…fitting, in a way. What happened to him, I mean. It just…it just fit."

Another pause. "Thank you, Cal. And you, too, Kris. You've both been better friends to me than I have been to you. I'm going to miss the both of you."

"Miss us?" Kris looked surprised.

Aidoann looked down at the last swallow or two of coffee in her cup. "I'll most probably be recalled. Not only is my mission here totally compromised, but so's my identity. And," and here she blushed, "evidently, I'm a rather poor judge o' character. And I let my emotions run away with me…completely unprofessional behavior. So I doon't doubt but that the Family will recall me. I'll probably have to undergo a whole lot more training before I'm trusted with anything like a mission again. And I can't blame them one bit."

"Well, I don't know about that, Aidoann," said Kris. "I mean, yeah, you did make some mistakes, but, but everybody does that. And if you haven't learned from these mistakes, I doubt more training is gonna help. I mean, you gotta admit: they were doozies."

Aidoann sniffled. "Aye. 'Doozies' fair sums them up. But I doubt my…my superiors will see 'em in that light." Another pause. "I even helped that monster break into local pharmacies. I should have known."

"Perhaps I could have a word with your mother, Aidoann," volunteered Cal. The two girls shot him a glance. Did he know what he was letting himself in for? "After all, you were helpful to me in Australia. Without your help, I don't think I'd have gotten to Kris in time. So I owe you, big time." He reached over the table and put his hand on her arm. "Besides. You're our friend."

Aidoann shook her head. "You dinna' know what ye're sayin'. True, we've…had some good times together, but, but we're at opposite ends of the sword. You seek to usher in Cthulhu's reign; I'm sworn to prevent that. At all costs, Cal. At all costs!"

"You know what? When the stars are right, we'll sort it all out then. Until then, we seem to have our hands full with the Elder Things. If they succeed in disrupting the balance here on Earth, you and I going head to head will be the least of anyone's concerns. So let's not borrow trouble, okay? Sufficient unto the day… And we do have a common enemy; I see no reason why we shouldn't pool our resources. So let me just…talk to your mother. I can't promise anything, but….I can promise I'll try."

Another shake of the head. "Why would ye even want me here? I've been naught but trouble for you since the day I arrived…"

"Cal just told you, Aidoann; you're our friend. Friends stick up for each other. So come on." Kris rubbed the Scots girl's arm in a comforting manner. "Let us at least try. It may not do any good, but what's the worst that can happen?"

"You could have to talk to m'grandmother." And Aidoann shuddered visibly. "And believe me, you _doon't_ want to have to talk to m'grandmother."

"We'll risk it."

_To be continued…._


	23. Chapter 23: Kris's Secret, Part 1

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 23: Kris's Secret, Part 1

….

_Be sure and check out Thomas Perkins' inspired retro comics covers of "Kid Kthulhu" on Deviantart. Also, be sure and check up on H. P. Lovecraft. You won't regret either one._

…

Chapter 23: Kris's Secret, Part 1

Aidoann hadn't been kidding one little bit about talking to her grandmother. Evidently, her organization was run in a matriarchal sort of way, with her grandmother serving as the leader and ultimate decision maker. Cal spoke with Ms. McCloud, requesting that Aidoann be allowed to remain, and was referred up the chain of command.

About forty-five minutes after speaking with Aidoann's grandmother, he emerged from the privacy room he'd entered, requesting a bit of privacy, somewhat more pale than when he'd gone in. "Aidoann? You, uh, weren't kidding about your grandmother. She's, uh, what we call a 'force to be reckoned with.' What do you call her back home?"

"'Grandmother.' Perhaps you see what I meant about her."

"I sure did." He handed the cell to Kris. "She wants you to call her. Now."

"Me?"-squeaked Kris. "Whatever for?"

Shrug. "Dunno. But she was adamant. You. Go ahead, use that same room."

It was a very hesitant Kris who found herself alone in the small snack area, placing a long distance call. _"Hello? Is this Kris?"_ The voice sounded much like Aidoann's mother had sounded, brogue and all, but had a touch of age to it. Kris wasn't sure how it managed to convey it, but it did.

"Uhm, yes, ma'am. I, I understand you wanted to talk to, to me?"

"_I did indeed. I understand you're best friends wi' this Calvin Michaels, of whom I've heard so much lately?"_

"Uhm, yes, ma'am, we've known each other since fifth grade. We, we were both eleven at the time…"

"_And ye're not a romantic couple?"_

Okay, this was starting to get a little personal, but such was the force of authority in the voice that Kris found herself answering automatically. "Uh, no, ma'am, we're not. We're best friends…" _And sometimes—most of the time—I wish we were more…_

Kris could almost hear the person on the other end of the line shaking her head. _"Young people. Ye think there'll always be a tomorrow, when ye can sort things out. Ye need to talk to him. And soon._

"_And ye really need to tell him yuir secret."_

All of a sudden, Kris felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down her back. She sat straight up on the couch, beads of sweat condensing on her forehead. "Er, secret?" Trying to keep her voice from squeaking. "You, you mean how, how I really feel about him?"

"_Not that secret. That's no secret from those around ye, I'm sure. Cal doesn't see it because he's a man, and men can stare these things in the face for a hundred years an' never see 'em._

"_But you need to tell him yuir __real__ secret. You may find that, too, isn't as much of a secret as ye think."_

"I…I, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about…" But she didn't sound very convincing, even to herself.

"_Sure'n play it that way if ye wish. But you do know it'll come out sooner or later. And trust me: sooner is always better than later._

"_In the meantime, I just want to say one more thing: doon't try anything…stupid. Will you at least listen to an old woman on that?"_

"I…I'll try, ma'am." Then, "Please don't tell him!"

"_I won't. 'Tis __your__ secret. I'll leave it to you, to handle it as best as you can."_

Kris emerged from the conference room, looking pale and a bit shaken. "Wow, Aidoann. You've got some… mighty strong women in your group."

Aidoann smiled. "_Tha'_ we do. 'Twas my grandmum—barely a teenager herself then she was-who held the Family together during the hard times of the war, pretty much all by herself. She's earned herself the nickname o' bein' Scotland's female version of John Wayne."

"John Wayne?" Cal and Kris looked at each other. Huh?

Aidoann's voice took on an exaggerated western growl. "Rough, tough, won't take no shit off nobody."

Their laughter reverberated up and down the hallway.

….

"I'm sorry, Cal. I just don't feel well today." Kris had begged off training that day. Aidoann's grandmother had, surprisingly for Aidoann, granted her continued stay in the United States, and even encouraged her to remain with Cal and Kris. "Maybe we're not such enemies as you think, Aidoann," Cal had remarked. Aidoann's only reply had been a worried look. She knew her people better than Cal did, and knew that if they acquiesced to her remaining here, there had to be a good reason for it.

She just hoped she wouldn't be called upon to betray, or—Heavenly Father forbid—_assassinate_ them.

What would she do if she were? Aidoann was firmly committed to the Family's goals of keeping the Earth Elder God-free, but she was coming to realize it was one thing to fight an enemy you saw at a distance. It was quite another to fight one you were friends with. In fact, the two terms were mutually exclusive.

Or were they?

Aidoann wondered if, in the past, there had been such divisions. Had there been German soldiers in World War II who'd found themselves fighting Allied soldiers they had known, been friends with, before the war, or vice versa?

What about perhaps one of the most famous examples: the American Civil War. Brother against brother. Father against son. There were many such examples from history.

And so she wondered…and feared.

….

"No, Cal, I'm fine. Just a little tired, I guess. Maybe I'm coming down with some sort of bug, I don't know." The two of them were in the break room taking a breather from weapons and tactics classes; Kris was sucking on an orange soda.

"You should have Brother Nemon take a look at you. He's better than any other doctor around."

"No! I mean, it's nothing, I'm sure. I'll just head on back to Arkham, get some rest." She smiled, tiredly. Privately, Cal thought Kris hadn't been looking very well for a number of days now. Maybe she was training to hard. "Mind if I run by the house? Got a few things I need to pick up before I head back to my apartment."

"Yeah, uhm…about that." It might have been his imagination, but it seemed like she tensed, just a little. "Uhm, Kris? I, uh. Gee. I mean. Uh, well. Look, don't take this the wrong way, but…would you, like, no, I mean, let me put it this way." He drew a deep breath. "Kris, would you move in with me? In the guest room, mind you; I'm not suggesting any, y'know, funny stuff, but, but that house is protected, and you're little apartment isn't. I, I hate to think what would've happened the other night when that hound thing came…what if it had come to your apartment, instead? There, there would've been nothing to stop it. I, I…" He found he couldn't go on, but whether from embarrassment or just running out of anything to say, he couldn't have said.

She was silent for a long, long moment. Then, "Cal, that's… Uhm, I mean. I, I appreciate it. I. Uhm." She fell silent. He looked at her. Embarrassed? _Kris?_

No freakin' way.

Was that a tear making its way down the side of her face? "I'll think about it," she said, suddenly, getting to her feet and gathering her things.

His gaze followed her. For some reason that he couldn't identify, he felt a rising sense of dread.

Kris took her time driving back to Arkham. Several times, she had to pull over to the side of the road, dry her eyes and blow her nose. Good thing she kept a large-sized box of tissue in the car.

It would be better this way. It really would.

She made it into Arkham around ten that night. Most of the stores and shops were closed, which suited her quite well. She made her way to Cal's house…the house that had been, for all practical purposes, theirs—lately, she'd spent almost as much time in it as he had—and immediately went to Cal's medicine cabinet. There: in the very back, the bottle of valium pills the doctor had prescribed for him so long ago, before he'd become aware of his true nature, and been tormented by dreams of being underwater. But he'd learned about himself, his heritage, and learned how to deal with it. So he'd never taken them.

Well, they'd prove useful now.

Back at her apartment: she continued to rationalize. It wasn't like she was leaving him all alone in the world. She still didn't trust Brother Elder, but Frank seemed okay. And, of course, there was Aidoann. Any man who didn't find Aidoann attractive was seriously damaged either below the waist or above the neck. Yeah, they'd make a great couple. And she had no doubt that, if anyone could, Aidoann would prove to be a powerful ally, not only against any enemies, but against enemies posing as friends. She'd have his back.

Kris fought back more tears when she realized she'd never get to see their children, or be the kids' aunt, and spoil them the way only she could.

But it was better this way.

She went into her bedroom, close the door, got into her pajamas, and got in bed. There was a bottle of water on the nightstand by the bed.

The pills were very bitter, going down.

…

Brother Nemon was in bed, in his personal quarters, reading, when the People's agent, Calvin Michaels, crashed through his door. He was holding limp body of his friend and partner, and the expression on his face looked as though he'd been struck by lightning…and didn't care. "Doc," he croaked, through a voice that sounded like it was recuperating from a scream, "do something. Save her."

_To be continued…_


	24. Chapter 24: Kris's Secret, Part 2

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening: Chapter 24: Kris's Secret, Part 2

….

_Anybody who hasn't glommed onto Thomas Perkins' fantastic retro comics covers of "Kid Kthulhu" is really missing something. And don't forget the Old Puritan himself, H. P. Lovecraft_

…_._

Kris's body looked very small on the hospital gurney. The doctors bustled around her, probing, taking samples, fitting her with a mask to keep her oxygen levels within normal limits. Cal looked on from the observation room, just the other side of a two-way mirror. The People knew about video feeds and live cams, and those were present, too. But there was nothing that could replace the nearness of one's family.

Frank, the Fantastic Battle Brain, joined him there, picking up the intercom into the ICU room. "I know you've probably also administered insulin; you might want to give her a double dose. And be ready for any tachycardia or heart arrhythmias. Electronic pacing might be in order."

Brother Nemon looked up. "Thank you, Frank. I'll certainly keep those in mind. Now, do you mind letting _me_ do _my_ job?"

"Certainly not. Carry on." Frank closed the connection.

Cal was still in shock, his face pale, eyes wide. He didn't know if he was standing or sitting down. Quietly, gently, Frank eased him over into a chair. "What happened?" No response. He shook him. "Calvin?"

Finally, Calvin stirred. He never took his gaze off the figure on the gurney, but he spoke, in a voice so low, Frank had to listen closely to understand what he was saying. "I…I was finishing up training. I was about to hit the showers when…when I just….I just _knew_ something was wrong. With Kris.

"I…found her there, in her bedroom, in bed, like, like…." He couldn't go on, the tears streaming down his face. He turned to Frank. "What…what _happened?_ I mean, _what happened_, Frank_? What really happened?_"

Frank clapped him on the shoulder. "Well. We'll just have to see, won't we?" _Those of us who don't already have a pretty good idea._

Thanks to Cal's prescient sense and Innsmouth medical resources, Kris managed to pull through. Cal didn't sleep a single wink the entire time. Instead, he paced. He paced in the observation room, he paced in the waiting room, and he even paced in the hallways when he found himself there. He barely knew where he was the whole time.

Finally, the doctors released Kris to a secluded room, under watch. Cal wanted to see her immediately, but Brother Elder had left specific orders for him not to, not yet.

"But _why?_"

"You need to clarify your inquiry, young Mr. Michaels. Why did I issue the orders, or why did she do what she did?"

"Whatever you've got."

Brother Elder leaned back in his chair, looking over his agent. This…was going to have to be handled delicately. "I'll speak with Brother Nemon, determine her medical—and mental-condition. Come back here tonight. We…have some things to discuss anyway."

Cal stormed out of the room, halfway wishing he could find Frank. The Fantastic Battle Brain, he sensed, was being more reticent than usual lately. He'd been talking about some major events upcoming, but right then, Cal couldn't have cared less if they'd included the end of the world.

_His_ world had almost ended. Compared to that, the end of the actual world would be almost anticlimactic.

What to do with the rest of his day?

That night: Cal and Frank assembled in Brother Elder's spacious office. Cal fidgeted; everybody seemed altogether too quiet, and a certain tension seemed to fill the air.

Brother Elder spoke quietly to an attendant. Cal could barely make out what he was saying. "Where's the Scots girl?"

"Training facility 142d. Brother Oberon is testing her power levels, trying to design a course for her."

"142d? That's about sixty miles from here. I hope that's far enough." Cal could tell he was quite serious.

A door opened on the other side of the room, and an attendant led Kris, dressed in hospital scrubs, into the room. Cal started to rush over to her, but Brother Elder waved him back. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Michaels. All questions will be answered. Just have patience." Kris kept her gaze on the floor, every now and then reaching up to wipe her eyes or nose. She sat in one of the large overstuffed chairs in front of Brother Elder's desk, her legs pulled up underneath her. The chair dwarfed her, even more so than usual. As if she were trying to _shrink_ into it.

"Kris!" Cal called from the seat he'd taken across the room, "_Why?_ Why did you _do_ this?!"

"Mr. Michaels!" Brother Elder's voice was sharp, and carried the whip of command. "First things first. As I said, answers will be given, this night." He turned to Frank, sitting between Cal and Kris. "Do you have it?"

In response, the Fantastic Battle Brain produced a small, black tubular device resembling a large permanent marker. Silently, he handed it to Brother Elder. "Mr. Michaels. Frank, here, has been working on a device which we believe will be most useful to us." He turned the device over and over in his hands.

Cal couldn't believe it. How trivial could they get? His best friend in the world just tried to kill herself and they wanted to talk about _toys?_

"Frank? Please explain this device, would you?" He handed the mechanism back to him.

"Certainly. You know about one of the tactics of the Silent Eternal Ones is to transplant one of their brains into a human body, what we call a 'sleeper' agent, the ultimate disguise. And beyond an autopsy, there's no way to determine a sleeper agent from any other human.

"Until now. This device detects the beta wave emanations that sleeper agents' brains emit, that do not correspond to human beta levels. It is, of necessity, small and short range, but the range is long enough for our purposes, at least at present.

"Calvin?" Cal started; he'd not really been paying much attention. "Hm?"

"Here. Please test this device for us. Start with me, if you like. You can see my brain, so you know I'm human."

_Oh, all right. If it'll get them moving on to other matters…._ "How do I…oh. I see. You twist this…and the button here…."

"That dial also unfolds a parabolic antenna, useful in narrowing down the range."

"Right. Uh, twist it like so…" The tiny antenna sprang out like a miniscule umbrella. He aimed the device at Frank and pressed the button.

Nothing.

"Okay…is that good or….?"

"Quite good. A positive would result in a beeping sound. Now. Try it on yourself."

Grudgingly, he turned the device around. Them and their Dagon-damned _toys!_

Nothing.

Anticipating the next command, he turned the device on Brother Elder, sitting, as he normally did, behind his desk. Still nothing. "Okay, Frank. Your device is working; none of us are sleepers. Now can we _please_ move on to-*" And he started to toss the device back to Frank.

Who held up a restraining finger. "Calvin. You haven't tested the device on us all."

"Yes I have. I waved this damned stick of yours all over the room-*"

"You did not test everyone here, Calvin." And Calvin suddenly knew what he meant.

When he'd faced the hound, he'd been afraid. The monster could have eaten him alive, and without killing him, either. When he'd fought the Silent Eternal Ones, both at the ruined church and in the underground warrens, swarming with their degenerate Martense servants, he'd been afraid. Or, rather, he thought he'd been afraid.

Now he was beginning know what true fear really was.

Almost against his will, his fingers turned the device towards the chair Kris was sitting in. Kris still hadn't looked up, but simply sat there, like a trapped animal, her hair hanging in strings from her head, obscuring her face.

"_Beep, beep, beep…"_

Cal felt a sudden, completely irrational surge of relief. "Hey, Frank. Your thing's malfunctioning. It's reading a false positive."

Neither Frank nor Brother Elder looked him in the face. "The device is working perfectly, Calvin. You saw. You tested it on all of us."

"But's it's broken. It's saying Kris is a sleeper agent, and I know that's not true."

Nobody said anything. "Oh, come _on!_ You guys aren't seriously trying to tell me that, that my _best friend_, whom I've known since _fifth freakin' grade,_ is a _sleeper agent?_"

Again, nobody said anything. He turned to the figure trying to shrink into the chair. "Kris! Come on! _Tell_ them! We've known each other for years!"

Again silence, and his fear mounted. Then, he heard the absolute worst thing he could ever possibly hear, coming from the trapped figure in the chair. "I…I'm sorry, Cal."

The entire world seemed to fall out from underneath him. He felt light-headed and dizzy, and felt around behind himself for his chair; he didn't recall standing up. "You…I…"

_Sniff!_ "I'm, I'm sorry, Cal. B-but it's, it's true." If anything, she managed to somehow shrink further into the chair, almost as though she were trying to creep into the seams of the cushions themselves.

Cal's mind raced. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. Even the disappearance of his mother took a back seat to this. "It…it was Australia, wasn't it? I _wasn't_ in time. They…they got her then…"

"No, Calvin," said Frank, gently. "This happened much longer ago than that.

"You've never really known the 'real' Crystal Simone. The person you befriended—who befriended you—all those years ago…was the person you see sitting across from you now.

"She was supposed to befriend you, and either kill you, or betray you in some other manner. We don't know the particulars, because, of course…well, we just don't know about all th-*"

"_THAT DOESN'T MATTER! KRIS! ALL THESE YEARS? ALL THESE FREAKING YEARS?"_

"I'm sorry, Cal! I—*"

"_DON'T CALL ME THAT! YOU'VE NO RIGHT! ALL THESE YEARS…ALL THESE YEARS, AND I THOUGHT…I ACTUALLY THOUGHT…_" But he found he couldn't go on. Instead, he stormed out into the night, smashing Brother Elder's door completely off its hinges. Later, he wouldn't even remember doing that.

Nighttime: Cal was sitting on the rocky Innsmouth shoreline, gazing out at the water, thinking.

His mother was gone. Strangely, he'd almost become accustomed to that fact, somehow, without liking it.

Now….

Kris. His friend.

A girl he'd known, for years. A girl he'd grown up with.

A girl he'd kissed. A girl with whom he'd wanted…so much.

Not his friend. A walking corpse with a monster's brain shoehorned into her skull, puppeting her around. A _betrayer._

It would be…so easy. Just take a huge swan dive out into the deep ocean. Shed his human form forever. Swim down to R'lyeh, where Mighty Cthulhu waited, dreaming, until the passage of the stars would be right, and he could once again emerge from the ocean, emerge to reclaim not just the land, but the minds and hearts of the humans upon it.

He would be welcomed there, he knew. He was Great Cthulhu's own son. Somehow he knew he would lead the teeming masses of Deep Ones in the rituals that had been old long before the first protozoa formed in Earthly seas…

And why…why did he get the distinct impression of someone _waiting_ for him there? Not as a leader or agent, but…something more?

Who or what was a _P'Thya?_

But he could not trace that line of thought; it ended in a feeling that he couldn't express.

He became aware of a presence alongside him. "Yuir Brother Elder told me you might be needin' somebody to talk to," said Aidoann, softly. The agent of Hastur sat next to him, shifting some rocks into a more comfortable position.

He said nothing. What was there to say? His whole world was destroyed. Completely gone, as surely as if somebody had nuked it several times over. He had nothing.

"I could'nae believe it myself, at first. But they showed me. Cal…doon't hate her."

He turned partway towards the Scots girl. Hate her? He felt nothing. He could feel nothing.

"I mean she…she could'nae help being what she was. But remember those times you had, together. Those were genuine; that was really her." She turned to look out at the crashing surf. "I'm told she resisted the influence of the Elder Things. They wanted her to, to either deliver you into their hands—well, their tentacles—or else do the job herself. She didn't do either one. She fought them off. For years, Cal. For years!

"For you."

Finally, he spoke. His voice was gravelly, as though he hadn't intended to use it again. "How? How could she be a sleeper agent all those years? Sleepers go insane after a year or two."

Aidoann began tossing small pebbles into the surf. "I asked Frank the same. The Elder Things implanted an extra organ in her, right above the pituitary glands. It regulated her hormone levels, and kept her body from rejectin' the alien brain." Aidoann paused. "But it had an unforeseen side effect."

"Huh? What?"

"It appears to've restricted the growth of her heart. She's still got the heart of a ten year old girl…in the body of a young adult. It's too much burden; tha' poor heart's beatin' itself ta death tryin' to keep up wi' the demands of her changing body." He looked at her, uncomprehendingly. "She's dyin', Cal. And there's no way to find a new heart for her in time, anyway. Not that Brother Elder would; she is, after all, an enemy agent."

Dying? "Dying?"

"Yeah, you know. As in tha' process where ye stop _livin'_?" Aidoann's cheeks were turning livid. Then she calmed herself. "And with all tha's happened recently…from what they're tellin' me, if ye want to say any goodbyes, ye'd best go do 'em." And she left him there, to his own confused thoughts.

He found himself at her bedside. Kris was very, very pale, seemingly unconscious, her hair sweat-plastered to her forehead, the oxygen mask over her face hissing steadily. Her chest rose and fell irregularly, it seemed to him.

Once, she opened her eyes slightly, to see him standing there. Kris, he thought. Kris, who'd stolen his lunch money at recess back in grade school (and for some reason, he never seemed to mind); who'd talked him into helping her hack into the school's computer system and put a bawdy screensaver on everyone's terminal; Kris, who'd deftly steered him out of the women's restroom at high school when he'd accidentally gone in to one, mistaking it for the men's room….

…Kris, who'd been with him when his mother had disappeared, who'd gone on missions with him, trained alongside him…

…Kris, with whom he'd shared a bed, more than once, as only best friends can…

…and with whom he'd shared a brief, totally platonic (and totally addictive) kiss…

He reached out and took her hand. After a moment, her fingers closed weakly on his.

He patted her hand with his other hand. "It's gonna be all right, Kris. I promise. Hear me? You know what that means, for me. I _promise._"

Brother Elder was in his office, going over the next month's reports, and trying to determine a good date to schedule an…extended leave of absence when the door opened and his agent, young Michaels, walked in. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Aidoann told me about Kris. How she's dying, an' all."

Oh. Was that all. "Yes. It turns out that the organ the Elder Things implanted in her had that side effect. But of course, they wouldn't care about that."

"So she needs a heart transplant."

Brother Elder leaned back in his office chair. "Well, basically. But there is no donor heart available, and, in any case, we can't afford, politically, to perform such a procedure. Even if she hasn't been truly working in the cause of the Elder Things, we don't know, we can't know, the extent to which they know what she knows. It's quite possible they're of a group mind, so that whatever she sees and knows, they do, too. Now, from what I've seen and been told, this seems doubtful, but it's a risk we simply don't need to take."

"But if you had a donor heart?"

Brother Elder was shaking his head. "You weren't listening. Even unawares, even unwillingly, she may be sending information to the enemy. Now how could I sanction a continuation of that process? I don't mean to sound heartless, but it's really better if…well, let's just say this way's better."

"I want you to give her my heart." Because of his unique heritage as the son of Cthulhu, Cal was a universal donor; any organ from him would "take" in any other human, without fear of rejection. And, also because of his unique biology, any organ taken from Cal would regrow, given time.

Another, even more vigorous shake of the head. "Out of the question. The process would be potentially life-threatening to you, since you recently donated so much blood to Ms. McCloud, and it would serve no good purpose whatsoever. No. There's no reason for such foolishness."

"Then I'll just have to give you one." And Cal pulled out a large Ka-bar knife out from his back pocket.

Brother Elder eyed him with some amusement. "I sincerely hope you don't think you can threaten me into doing this, now do you?"

"Threaten you? Not exactly. But, see, here's the deal." He brought the wickedly-sharp knife up to his chest level. "Until you transplant my heart into Crystal Simone's body, I _promise_ you, _this_ will keep on happening." And with that, he reversed the blade and plunged it into his own chest.

The pain was incredible. His last fading sight was of the look of astonishment on Brother Elder's blood-spattered face.

_To be continued…_


	25. Chapter 25: Kris's Secret, Part 3

Kid Kthulhu: The Awakening, Chapter 25: Kris's Secret, Part 3

…..

_If you haven't already gone over and admired Thomas Perkins' retro "Kid Kthulhu" comics covers, which were the inspiration for these stories, well, I feel sorry for you. And if you haven't read any of H. P. Lovecraft's works, you should._

…_.._

Kris came awake in stages. The first time, she was barely aware of actually being awake…just a bright light and an awful feeling of _heaviness_, as though she could barely move. She almost immediately lapsed back to sleep.

Finally, she came fully awake enough to see Aidoann drowsing by her bed on a small couch. "A-aidoann?"

Instantly, the Scots girl was by her side. "Doon't try to move, Kris. Ye've been through hell, and ye're by no means out the other side. But yer on the way." She smiled, and Kris could see she was pale and drawn looking, as though she hadn't slept in days…and had probably cried in several of them. _And even now,_ Kris thought with a wry smile, _I'll bet she has to fight the boys off with a stick._

"Wh-where's…Cal?" It was almost the exact request Aidoann had made when she rejoined the waking world, not all that long ago. But Kris didn't think about that right then. Something was different…something about herself…

"He's alright, Kris. I'll tell you this: he's alive, and recuperatin.' So you just try'n do the same."

Kris felt herself lapsing back into unconsciousness. "The…the voices. They've stopped."

"Huh? What?" Aidoann leaned closed to hear the whispered words.

"The voices…in my head…they…they're gone."

"What voices, Kris? What voices?"

"The…the voices. I…I don't hear…the voices…"

Rehabilitation began the day she fully awaked to the painful reality of recovery her life had become. As before, Aidoann was there, helping her, making sure everything was placed where it should be, and that she had the assistance she needed to begin her exercises. (And listening to Kris complain that bedpans _must_ have been designed by a certified sadist.)

Kris hooked a thumb over her hospital gown and looked down at her chest. There, along the line of her rib cage, was an incision, expertly opened and stitched shut. "_That's_ gonna hurt when those stiches come out," she winced.

"They may."

"So…I guess you guys solved the heart thing? There was a suitable-* Oh, no." No wonder she hadn't seen Cal!

"Oh, yes. Seems we both owe yuir boyfriend our lives an' possibly more. 'Tis _his_ heart that beats in yuir chest right now. He's turnin' into a regular supply depot."

Kris winced. "He…he's not…not really my boyfriend."

Aidoann stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Kris, hands on her hips. "He's not? An' why do ye say that?"

"Well, I mean…he's like…I mean, we've never, you know, actually talked, talked about it…and God only knows what he thinks about me now."

"Oh! Well! Let me see!" Aidoann stopped in the middle of the room, and struck a thoughtful pose, her finger on her chin. "He _gave you his heart._ Not just figuratively, but _literally._ He _gave you his heart._ Now, I'm wonderin' what the significance o' _tha'_ gesture could possibly be?" She adopted an expression of mock frustration. "Well, 'tis too much for my wee brain to figure out. Perhaps when ye're feelin' better, you could Google it?"

Kris turned away, blushing and laughing quietly at the same time. It hurt to laugh, but it also felt good. She hadn't expected to feel anything ever again. "I never figured you for the sarcastic type, Aidoann."

"An' _I_ never figured _you_ for the stupid type! Kris! If ye doon't see how he feels about ye now, you're just blindin' yourself. You need to have The Talk. Or do I have to lock the both of ye in a room somewhere until you do?"

"Okay, okay! We'll…make that _I'll_ do it." She sighed. "I just hope he doesn't want his heart back." She glanced back down at her chest, underneath the gown. "I'd have a hellava time getting it out."

Aidoann came over to her, smoothing out her hair. "Somehow, girl, I think ye've had it for some time now."

_The End of this Part._

_The Beginning of Another._


End file.
